


I'll Be Coming Home, Wait For Me

by dahlstrom



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, there's not enough chris berg in fics, warning for lots of descriptions of food oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-02 20:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 47,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahlstrom/pseuds/dahlstrom
Summary: The diner AU. Even and Yousef open a 1950s American-style restaurant together - Even is the creative genius in the kitchen, Yousef keeps the trains running on time, and Isak, Chris B, and Magnus are all along for the ride. Falling in love over food while Elvis serenades from the jukebox. Welcome to the Throwback Diner.---The next couple of minutes are a complete blur of Yousef wishing Isak luck under his breath, then loudly saying goodbye to Even and hurrying out the door, and Even leading Isak to one of the only booths not covered with elements of the remodel, the two of them settling into their seats, Even asking him again if he’d like anything, and Isak, partly because he wants to delay things and partly because his throat now feels like fucking sandpaper, asking for some water. It’s not until he’s completely alone for a moment that he’s able to have a quick, stern talk with himself about calming down and justgetting through this.If he can keep his cool for just a few minutes, do his best to ignore Even’s jawline and incredible eyes and, yeah, pretty much everything else about him, he might just come out of this with a job.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This thing just kind of exploded into my brain a couple of weeks ago and has completely taken over, okay. I’ve worked in a _lot_ of restaurants, and if you never have, trust me when I say it’s another world entirely. I'm hoping to be able to convey that properly in this fic! Sending a thousand hearts to [Lys](http://diamondjacket.tumblr.com) and [Ciara](http://littlespooneven.tumblr.com) for being the most amazing cheerleaders and for giving me most of the best ideas for this fic (not joking), to Immy, [Faiza](http://evenandsana.tumblr.com), and [Marte](http://skamforfaen.tumblr.com) for providing answers to all of my annoying research questions, to [CZ](http://bechnaesun.tumblr.com) for making sure the words made sense, and a thousand extra to [Dora](http://cuddlyevak.tumblr.com) for the utterly gorgeous tumblr banner!!!

“Holy shit, it’s about time you got here.”

Magnus just grins at the three of them as he peels off his jacket. “Sorry, sorry. Lost track of time. Is there still beer?” He’s already heading for the fridge as he asks the question, and Jonas mumbles something to the affirmative. 

“So where were you?” Mahdi asks, his tone still just as annoyed as it had been a moment ago.

Magnus makes some sound that’s part chuckle, part fucking _moan,_ and Isak rolls his eyes. “If you were with a girl please spare me the details. Or let me leave the room first.”

“I...” Magnus says in a grand voice, and then takes an infuriatingly long gulp of beer, and _then_ makes a show of settling into his chair before finally finishing his sentence. “Was at a job interview. And it went awesome.”

The mood around the kitchen table shifts at once from mild irritation to happy surprise; they all offer their congratulations and pepper him with questions. Isak can tell how pleased Mags is by the attention and has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes again, but he’s still smiling just as widely as Mahdi and Jonas are. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Magnus says loudly, cutting them all off. “You know Yousef, Sana’s boyfriend?” The boys all hum in agreement. “Well, I ran into Sana last week and she told me her parents decided to retire, give up their restaurant. And they’re giving it to Yousef, who’s going to turn it into - get this, you guys, it’s so crazy - a _diner._ Like straight out of some American movie from the 50s. And it’ll have all American food like they would have had back then.” 

Isak can’t help scoffing. “ _Yousef?_ What does Yousef know about that sort of thing?” Sure, it’s been awhile since he’s talked to Yousef (or Sana, really) but he’s hardly the type of person Isak would have pegged for such a weird idea.

“Well that’s the thing - it’s not just Yousef. He’s running it with this friend of his from Bakka, this guy named Even.” A strange sort of gleam comes into Magnus's eyes then. “Even is like this genius chef, he went to culinary school in London, and before that he spent a year in America and pretty much fell in love with their food.” 

At this, all three of them let out derisive little noises, not even trying to hide it, but Magnus takes no notice. “So this is kind of all his idea. Anyway--” He takes another swig from his beer bottle and hardly allows himself time to swallow before going on.

“Sana put me in touch with Yousef, and we set up the interview for this afternoon, just for a waiter position or whatever. So I went over there, and met with both him and Even. And we were all just talking and Even was telling me everything I just told you guys, and he’s got this way of talking about _food,_ man, like he’s so _passionate_ about it and it got me really interested, and I told him I’m not a bad cook, really, so he got this look in his eye and sort of smirked at me, but not like in an asshole way, it was like he was sizing me up. And he said, ‘okay, what’s your specialty?’ It put me on the spot, and I couldn’t really think of anything. So he said, ‘can you make an omelette?’ and I said sure, so he said, ‘how about we go in the kitchen and you make one for me?’ Like so... fucking... just _cool,_ like I almost felt like it was my idea in the first place? Like I wasn't nervous or anything, I don’t know how to explain it. So we went in there and I made him an omelette with onions and peppers and some cheese, and I put in a little garlic salt and smoked paprika too. And he tasted it and like _threw_ his fork on the plate and looked at Yousef and said, ‘eat that. Just try a bite of it, it’s insane.’ And Yousef grabbed the fork and took a bite and was like ‘wow, that’s really nice!’ and Even goes and gets another fork and the two of them _eat the whole thing_ and I’m like what the fuck is even happening and Even finishes the last bite and he’s grinning at me and then he goes, ‘you wanna come work here and cook with me?’ And I just about fell on the floor. It was crazy, the whole afternoon was _crazy._ So I’m starting on Monday.”

Isak is very familiar with the way Magnus tells these long-winded tales, but he also knows from years of experience that at least 90% of them are total bullshit. He’d like to write off this one as crap too, but there’s something in Mags’ demeanor that tells him every word is true. He’s never seen his friend like this, not over any fight he’d claimed to witness at a party or any girl _ever,_ he’s talking about _a fucking job interview_ and making it sound like the greatest thing he’s ever experienced in his life. 

Jonas and Mahdi are just grinning at him and clapping him on the back, but Isak is still trying to take all of this in. He leans across the table toward him, licks his lips, and asks, “You’ve never cooked professionally, right?” He knows the answer, obviously, but he wants to hear Magnus say it. 

“Nope.”

“And this guy just eats some eggs and offers you a job?”

Magnus stares at him for a second; he’s probably trying to look offended but he’s still got that dopey smile on his face, so the effect is sort of ruined. “No, he ate some of _my_ eggs, and thought they were awesome, and he and Yousef both fucking devoured them, and _then_ he offered me a job.” 

“I wasn’t trying to cut you down! I’m just surprised, okay?” Isak offers his hand palm up to Magnus, smiling sincerely now. “That’s great, I’m serious. Congratulations, man.” 

Magnus narrows his eyes at Isak but breaks into an even wider grin and grabs his hand to shake it. “Thanks. And it’s good that you weren’t being an asshole about it, because on the way over here I remembered how you’ve been talking about how much your job sucks and was going to ask you if you wanted to quit there and try to come work at the diner.”

Jonas and Mahdi both burst out laughing - Isak has to join them because he’s not the least bit offended by it. “Dude, you know Isak burns _water,_ ” Mahdi manages to say, and Jonas is almost _choking_ by now. “He’s a terrible fucking cook, why would you ask that?”

“Not as a _cook!_ ” Magnus insists. “Just for their wait staff. He knows how to do that.”

Oh. That sobers Isak up immediately, although the other two are still caught up in the joke. “Seriously?” he asks Magnus, waving a hand at Jonas and Mahdi to shut them up. “That’d be... yeah, that’d be amazing, thank you.” 

Magnus gives him a sweet smile, already reaching into his pocket for his phone. “I’ll text Yousef now if you want.”

Isak just nods, too stunned with gratitude to really speak. His boss at KB _hates_ him - Isak is pretty sure it’s at least half homophobia, since the cold looks had started after his last boyfriend had picked him up at the end of a shift and they’d kissed right by the cash register. The asshole has recently cut Isak’s hours back to less than twenty per week, which is definitely not enough to live on for much longer, let alone help cover the cost for his mother’s care. But he’s been too worried and apathetic to do anything about it yet, hoping a solution would appear out of thin air.

And apparently it has.

He just sits quietly, chewing at his lip and waiting for Magnus's phone to light up with a reply, while Mahdi and Jonas are asking more questions about the job and about how Yousef is doing. His heart leaps into his throat when the phone buzzes on the table. “He said that sounds great, of course he remembers you, and is asking for your number?” Magnus looks at Isak quizzically. “Is that cool?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Isak replies, and adds without really thinking about it, “Tell him he can call right now if he wants.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Jonas giving him an odd look, but doesn’t acknowledge it. Sure, this is out of character for him, but he’s desperate. Job-searching is irritating and sort of horrifying, really, so if he has a chance to avoid it for at least one opportunity, he’s going to take it.

He’s instinctively slipped his hand into the pocket of his hoodie and closed it around his phone, willing it to ring, and it pays off. Magnus leans over to look at the unknown number. “That’s him, yeah, yeah,” he says happily, nudging at Isak’s arm. 

Isak flashes the three of them a ‘wish-me-luck’ sort of smile as he stands up from the table with the phone to his ear. “Hi, this is Isak?” 

“Hey! It’s Yousef. Magnus said it was okay to call?”

He’s breathing a sigh of relief that he hopes isn’t too audible through the phone as he wanders out of the kitchen and into Jonas's and Mahdi’s shared living room. “Yeah, no problem!” he replies, wincing a little at how enthusiastic he sounds, just knowing it’s going to come off as fake. “Yeah, Mags was telling me about his interview - he’s really stoked about the job, everything sounds great.”

Yousef’s laugh is instantly comforting - it brings back fond memories for Isak. Damn, it’s probably been at least a year since he’s seen him. “Yeah,” Yousef replies. “He made a really good impression. Even’s excited about him.”

Isak bites his lip. He’s not sure he can tell Yousef that as far as he can tell the feeling is definitely mutual without making it sound snarky. Instead he just says “Great,” again, and shakes his head at himself. He’s got to step it up. “So yeah, listen, if you guys are still looking for wait staff, I’d love to come and talk to you? I’ve got experience, sort of. I’ve been working at KB for about six months.”

“Oh totally, yeah. We’re just getting started with hiring - Magnus is actually our first. Are you looking to have this as a second job, or...?”

“Uh...” He hadn’t been prepared for such a question. “I’m not really sure,” he lies quickly. Isak may not be a master at this whole job-searching thing, but he sure as hell knows it’s not a good idea to tell your potential employer that your current employer is a bag of dicks and that you can’t wait to tell him to fuck off while throwing your apron in his face.

“Okay. Well, we can talk about it. When can you come by?”

“Tomorrow?” The word is out of his mouth in an instant. “Anytime really, I’m not working.” 

“I’ll have to check with Even to make sure, but how about 14:30?”

“Perfect.”

Isak can hear the smile in Yousef’s voice when he replies, “I’m looking forward to seeing you, it’s been way too long. I told Sana I was calling you and she smiled really wide.”

He doesn’t really have a good reason for their lack of contact, but Yousef is making him feel anything but bad about it. In fact, he now misses the both of them even more than he had when Magnus first brought them up. “Tell her I say hi?” he asks, somewhat tentatively, picturing her dimples and feeling nostalgic.

“Of course I will. Okay, you remember where it is, right? Corner of--”

“Grønland and Motzfeldts,” they finish together, and both of them chuckle slightly. “Yeah, I remember,” Isak says. He’d been to Sana’s parents’ restaurant several times during their second and third years at Nissen. 

“I’ll text you tomorrow after I talk to Even to confirm it, but yeah let’s say 14:30 for now.”

“Awesome. See you then.”

\---------

Yousef had said in his text that morning that he’d meet Isak outside since they can’t have the restaurant unlocked, which is fine, but Isak doesn’t recognize the man lingering on the sidewalk glancing between his phone and the passing crowd. He’s still about thirty meters away, so he quickly checks his phone - yes, he’s right on time, and furthermore there’s no message from Yousef with a change of plans. 

Realization only comes when the guy grins directly at him and waves. It _is_ him. It’s not just that a year or more has passed since Isak had last seen him - Yousef is dressed very sharply in a dark suit and tie, his hair perfectly styled. It’s quite a change from the laidback guy Isak had gotten used to. He looks like a _grown-up._

Isak himself is presentable at best; he hadn’t gone all out and dressed up for this or anything, because he’d assumed it would just be a casual sort of meeting. Now, though, approaching Yousef in that suit, he sort of regrets this decision. At least he’d opted to not wear a snapback. 

“Isak!” Yousef greets him joyfully, hardly hesitating before throwing both arms around him in a warm hug, and then pulling back and cupping Isak’s face between his hands to study him. “It’s been way too long.”

“So great to see you,” Isak agrees, unable to stop smiling, because it really _is._ Fond memories are flooding his mind, and once again he sort of wants to kick himself for not keeping up with him and Sana. “I gotta say though, I feel pretty underdressed.”

Yousef glances down at Isak’s clothes, then at his own, and starts to laugh. “No, you’re fine! Sorry - Even and I had a couple of business meetings this morning. I didn’t wear this for _you._ ” He nudges Isak’s arm, still grinning, and now Isak feels more relaxed. “Ready to go in?”

Nodding, Isak follows him to the front door, only now noticing the ‘Closed for Renovation - Under New Management!’ sign in the front window. 

Magnus had told him last night that they’d just started the remodel, so Isak hadn’t really been sure what to be prepared for. Once they’re inside, he quickly sweeps his eyes over the main room - there are power tools and hammers and plywood everywhere, leaning against walls and sitting on tables. The walls are mostly bare and appear to have been very recently painted bright white, and off to one side he can see a pile of what looks like very thin, very large mirrors stacked neatly on the floor. 

“Yeah, I apologize for the mess,” Yousef is saying, and Isak jerks his attention back to him, waving a hand as if to say ‘no problem’. “We’re keeping a couple of the booths over there clear, though,” he adds, gesturing toward the far wall. “Even will be here in a little bit - we’d just gotten back here maybe ten minutes ago after being out at those meetings all morning, so he’s upstairs changing his clothes and having something to eat really quick.”

“Upstairs?” Isak asks, frowning slightly.

“Oh yeah, there’s an apartment on the second floor, and he moved into it when we took over last month.” Isak nods, but he barely has a chance to process this information before Yousef is continuing, his tone becoming slightly apologetic. “Listen, I was wondering - if it’s okay with you, we can just have Even speak to you alone? I was thinking this morning that since I _know_ you, it might be kind of weird. There might be this unintentional bias thing happening, since this is technically an interview. I wouldn’t want to influence Even’s thinking.”

Well, shit. Isak hadn’t been the least bit nervous earlier, but now, in the matter of just a few seconds, he’s started sweating bullets. Having an ‘in’ with the owner was the whole point here; he was practically guaranteed to get the job. But if Yousef removes himself from the equation, Isak has to rely on... his wit? His half-assed charms? Because honestly, a six-month stint at a coffee shop doesn’t exactly qualify him to help these guys with their brand-new restaurant, especially with this off-the-wall diner theme and Sana’s parents breathing down their necks. 

But he just swallows all of this down and gives Yousef a nod and a small, understanding smile. “I get it, sure.”

“Trust me, Even’s _really_ easy to talk to. I don’t think he’s ever met a single person who didn’t like him right away.”

Recalling Magnus's blatant enthusiasm for Even last night, Isak hides a grin and just nods again. “Really, it’s cool.” 

Yousef smiles warmly at him, reaching over to give his arm a light squeeze. “Thanks. If you’re not comfortable, just sort of give me a signal or something and I’ll stay.” He pats Isak’s arm again as if to reassure him further, then asks if he can get Isak anything. “We don’t have the soft drinks hooked up yet, but there’s water and tea and coffee?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks.”

“Okay, just checking. Let me give you a little tour while we’re waiting for Even.”

He asks if Isak knows what a typical American-style diner looks like, and Isak scrunches up his nose, shrugging with a little laugh. “Sort of? Explain it to me, though.”

“No problem. There’s a lot of chrome, stainless steel - that’s what those are,” he adds, pointing to the large mirror-like sheets Isak had noticed earlier. “They’ll be cut and fitted into certain spots. Just as accents, like on the walls behind booths and stuff. And we’re going to have some neon lighting installed, not too much, but definitely enough to be noticed, just in these thin little tubes running around some of the molding and outlining booths. Even’s got some friends in the States on the lookout for vintage signage for the walls - old advertisements and posters, very retro. They’ve already sent us some, and they're still finding things, plus we went ahead and ordered some new stuff, too. Let's see... we’re hoping to have enough money to re-do all of the booth seats in red vinyl, but if we can’t, we’re at least getting new red tabletops for them. And we’re going to have a new floor put in - black and white checkerboard tile. That’s kind of a diner staple.”

The image Yousef is describing is so different from the restaurant’s former clean, simple state that it gives Isak whiplash. It must show on his face that he’s a bit overwhelmed, because Yousef laughs and shakes his head. “I know, it’s a lot. But it’s going to look _amazing_. Even has a bunch of pictures he can show you. Oh, and of course there’ll be a counter with barstools, because it’s not a diner without that. Right there.” He gestures to an open space where Isak remembers tables being when Sana’s parents ran the place. “When you’re sitting there,” Yousef says, “You’ll be able to see right back into the kitchen.” 

Isak walks over to the spot and faces the kitchen, and indeed, he has a perfect view of the long rectangular slot in the wall, and of the counter where the finished plates will be set by the cooks for the servers to pick up and take to their tables. He turns back to Yousef, raising his eyebrows with a smile. “So if someone accidentally lights the grill on fire, all the customers will be able to see it?” He won’t mention names, but of course he’s thinking of Magnus - Isak loves him dearly, but he hasn’t yet been able to wrap his mind around the idea of Mags _cooking_ for a restaurant full of actual _people_. 

But it’s not Yousef who answers. From behind him, a deep voice he’s never heard before suddenly says, “Nobody’s lighting my kitchen on fire, don’t worry.”

Startled, Isak turns in the direction it had come from and sees... well, an angel. A fucking angel is approaching him from the kitchen. Yeah.

He’s giving Isak a brilliant smile while staring directly into his eyes, and Isak actually feels faint for a second. He knows his jaw has literally dropped but his brain has ground to a halt so he can’t _fix it._ This _cannot_ be Even. Just. No.

By now the guy’s eyes have slid past Isak and settled on Yousef, and his smile has grown even wider. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, the corners of his mouth dropping into a cute little ‘oops’, and he leans into Yousef in a quick hug before turning his full attention back to Isak. “Hi, I’m Even.” He’s holding out his hand, and Isak shakes it on autopilot, still not quite able to believe this is happening, that _this unbelievably gorgeous person_ is going to be interviewing him and might be his boss soon. 

He’s going to kill Magnus for not warning him. Absolutely kill him.

“Isak. Uh, Valtersen,” he quickly adds, trying to keep some semblance of decorum here. “Nice to meet you.”

“Have you been talking his ear off?” Even asks Yousef, his playful tone making it very clear how comfortable they are together. 

“Not as much as you will be, I’m sure,” Yousef fires back, and the two of them share a laugh, while Isak attempts a weak smile. “No, I was just giving him a little tour, telling him about the changes we’ll be making. That’s as far as we got.”

“Did he at least offer you something?” Even asks Isak, those bright blue eyes piercing him again. “Something to drink, or eat, maybe?”

Isak opens his mouth, but Yousef cuts in. “I did, and he very politely declined. Please, you think I don’t know how to be a good host? And you’re still trusting me to run the front of the house?” He winks at Isak over Even’s shoulder. “Everything’s fine. And now, if it’s _okay_ with you, partner, I’m going home for a little while to eat and change out of this monkey suit.” It occurs to Isak then that Even had likely been wearing something similar this morning, and feels cheated out of seeing it. Yeah, the simple jeans, white t-shirt, and unzipped navy blue hoodie he’s got on now are doing him plenty of favors (not to mention making Isak feel less self-conscious about his own choice of clothing for this interview) but fuck, the thought of seeing him a suit like Yousef’s wearing? Utterly criminal. Why hadn’t he gotten here early?

Even is clicking his tongue. “You don’t have to go home to eat, I can fix you something--”

“Clothes, Even.” 

“Yes, fuck, you look fabulous. I told you about twelve times.”

Yousef mutters something Isak can’t understand - it’s in Arabic, he thinks - and gives Even a light smack on the shoulder, but they’re both grinning so it’s obviously all in good fun. They converse quietly for a moment, leaving Isak to just watch and be impressed as hell that Even speaks Arabic, and to ponder the nagging thought that he’s _seen_ him somewhere before.

_In your fucking dreams, most likely,_ pipes up this little voice in his head, and Isak tries his best to not let his reaction to it show on his face.

“Okay!” Yousef says loudly, giving Isak a little nod. “All good? I’ll be back later?”

Isak’s heart is racing and he’s sweating like crazy again, half-terrified by the prospect of being left alone with Even, beautiful Even, who’s going to judge his character and his communication skills and basically everything about him, just size him up in a quick half-hour interview and determine whether Isak is worthy of being allowed to continue to be in his presence. _Sure,_ he’s all good. Everything is just peachy keen. 

But of course, all he says in response is a perky little “Yeah, see you later! Thanks again!” and immediately wants to crawl under a booth to hide. 

The next couple of minutes are a complete blur of Yousef wishing Isak luck under his breath, then loudly saying goodbye to Even and hurrying out the door, and Even leading Isak to one of the only booths not covered with elements of the remodel, the two of them settling into their seats, Even asking him again if he’d like anything, and Isak, partly because he wants to delay things and partly because his throat now feels like fucking sandpaper, asking for some water. It’s not until he’s completely alone for a moment that he’s able to have a quick, stern talk with himself about calming down and just _getting through this._ If he can keep his cool for just a few minutes, do his best to ignore Even’s jawline and incredible eyes and, yeah, pretty much everything else about him, he might just come out of this with a job. 

Even comes back with a tall glass of water with ice, as if he’d known Isak wanted ice without being told. “Here you go,” he murmurs, and Isak takes a grateful gulp as Even sits back down with a relaxed sigh, turning that smile on him again. “So! You were friends with Sana at Nissen?”

Since he hadn’t expected this as the first question, Isak needs a moment for his mind to shift gears. “Uh, yeah. We were biology partners in second year and became really good friends. I’ve been here,” he adds, waving a hand around, “A bunch of times. And met her parents too, both here and at their house.”

“She spoke very highly of you,” Even replies. “When Yousef called me about this last night, she kept interrupting him, so he just put the phone on speaker.”

Blushing, Isak stares at his water glass and tries not to smile too widely. “Earlier Yousef said he was going to let us talk alone because he didn’t want to influence you, but I see Sana might have already done that.”

“Oh no, no, I promise I can make my own decisions.”

When Isak looks back up at him, he’s taken aback once again by the intensity of Even’s gaze, but he manages to pull himself together enough to reply, “Fire away, then,” and leans back into the booth, doing his best to project confidence. 

Even seems amused, his mouth quirking slightly, but in an instant he’s all business. “Okay then. Let’s see - well first, did you bring a C.V.?”

Fuck. 

“Um, no. I didn’t, sorry... Yousef didn’t really--” _Way to go, idiot._ Isak winces and then immediately tries to give Even an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It would be a waste of paper anyway, because I’ve only had one other job. I can tell you about it, give you my manager’s name and the phone number...?”

But Even is actually _smiling,_ almost laughing, in fact. “Sorry, I was mostly kidding! It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Listen, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leans forward across the table and Isak can’t help leaning in, too. “We don’t really know what we’re doing yet,” he says, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “This is-- all of this is so new, and Yousef and I are still figuring out just about everything. But he and Sana have vouched for you, so don’t stress, okay? We’re basically just here for you to learn more about what our plans are and to see if this is something you want to do.”

This doesn’t really track with what he’d said a moment ago about being able to make his own decisions, but Isak isn’t going to question it. “Okay,” he replies, relaxing a little and giving Even a genuine smile this time.

“But speaking of your job at KB... tell me about it. It’s mostly coffee, I know, but they serve food as well.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t really call it waiting tables,” Isak says, wanting to be as honest as possible. “Most of the stuff is premade, and we just grab the sandwich or whatever, heat it up if we need to, and hand it over. Done.”

Even is nodding slowly, his head tipped back a little so he’s looking at Isak with slightly narrowed eyes. Isak has to wonder if it’s the same sort of look he had given to Magnus yesterday, right before he’d asked him what he could cook. “Okay, that’s fair. How are you at multitasking, though? Like, when it gets hectic there.”

Isak replies without really thinking about it. “Pretty good. I can handle pressure and I don’t make many mistakes.”

“Would you be working both here and there at the same time?”

Last night on the phone with Yousef, Isak hadn’t known what to say to this question, but now he’s ready. “No, I’d be leaving there if you guys offered me the job. I don’t get many hours anyway, and if you can offer me full-time I’d love it.” He’s still not going to tell the whole truth, though. Tales of veiled homophobia can wait until they’ve gotten to know each other better.

Even is frowning a little, though. “You’re the same age as Sana, right?”

“I’m about six months older than her. I turned 20 in June.”

“And you’re not in school?”

“Not really. I’m taking a couple of classes, but I haven’t quite decided what I want to study yet.” Shit, he probably sounds like a slacker. Then he remembers that Magnus is now in his _second_ gap year but Even had basically hired him on the spot, and he feels a little better.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Even replies, the easy smile back on his face. “What are you interested in?”

Isak raises his eyebrows and lets out a deep breath through his mouth, surprised by the question. “Sciences, mostly. I just haven’t settled on which one. Physics for sure, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately about astronomy.”

Now Even’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow,” he says softly. “That’s pretty impressive. Do you know all the constellations?”

“Most of them.” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd.” Even says it completely deadpan, but a second later he breaks into laughter that makes it clear he’s just joking. 

“And proud of it, thanks very much!” Isak replies, laughing now too. It’s a nice moment, and does the trick of dispelling most of Isak’s nerves. 

“Well, let me tell you some more about our plans,” Even says once they’ve calmed down, and Isak nods, ready to listen. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind just listening to Even speak for hours. 

“We’re hoping to open in late October, so about a month from now. There’s a lot to get done before then, as you can see.” He gestures around the room with a rueful smile. “We’ve got contractors doing most of the work, obviously, but one of the reasons we’re looking to hire people now is so they can help out, if they’re willing. I mean, we’re not going to ask you to wire new electrics or anything, but like... hanging the decor, unpacking new glassware and plates when they get here, stuff like that.”

“Oh, I can do electrical work.”

For a moment Even’s eyes light up, but then he sees the smirk on Isak’s face and gives him a mock glare. “I should make you _learn_ electrics just for that.”

“Seriously, I’m fine with helping out. I’m not super handy or anything, but I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.” 

“Good to know. And it’s not just help with the remodel that we need. We’re still putting the menu together, for one thing, and I want the staff’s input on my ideas for dishes.”

“Now we’re talking,” Isak says quickly, leaning forward with an eager smile.

Even laughs. “In a minute. _And,_ ” he adds, “I’m completely willing to train the wait staff on food prep and cooking, if anyone wants to learn.”

All logical thought zooms right out of Isak’s head - the idea of being side-by-side with Even for that, working intently and closely together, him folding his hands over Isak’s to show him proper knife technique... 

But he wrenches himself back to the real world as quickly as possible. “I’m hopeless in the kitchen, trust me.”

“Well, the offer’s there.” Isak nods with a small smile, and Even returns it. “Do you have any questions for me?”

_Are you single?_ “Yousef mentioned pictures? Of what you’re hoping the place will look like when it’s done?”

“Oh, yeah!” Even flips open the cover on his iPad and spends a moment scrolling through it, then tilts it so Isak can see the screen. “Just swipe through the folder, go ahead.”

As he looks through the photos, Even explains that while some have been pulled from Google, quite a few were taken by friends of his in America at diners they’ve visited at his request. “Did Yousef mention the jukebox?” Even asks, his eyes sparkling. When Isak shakes his head (staring at him with his mouth slightly open, because _seriously?_ ), Even just grins and points to a spot in the middle of the room. “It’s going right there, and it’s already been shipped.”

“All old American songs?”

“Mhm. And it only takes American coins, but we’re going to try to figure out a way around that.”

Isak has to laugh. “Rig it so you don’t have to pay at all?” he suggests, and Even widens his eyes playfully as if to say _And lose a chance to make more money? Never!_ Fuck, he’s gorgeous. “Hmm, good luck with that one,” Isak replies, and drags his attention reluctantly back down to the iPad. 

“Yousef and I went to the Northeastern US this past spring for research. That's pretty much where diners got started and there's still a bunch of them there,” Even informs him when he gets to the series of pictures of the two of them grinning both outside and inside of various establishments, most of which look like they’ve been around for decades. And as he’s greeted by photo after photo of Even, Isak realizes that he has indeed seen him before today - in framed pictures displayed at Sana’s parents’ flat. Photographs of him and Elias and Yousef and a few of their other friends. He remembers being curious about him back then, struck by his good looks as well as his presence among a group of Muslim boys, but he’d never asked Sana about him. How odd to finally meet him now, and in such a setting.

But he’s not able to dwell on this for long, because he’s suddenly staring down at a scanned image of a hand-drawn floor plan. It only takes a few seconds for him to figure out it’s of _this_ restaurant, given the labels in Norwegian for _kitchen,_ _booth,_ _counter,_ and others. “Who did this?” he asks, looking up at Even.

“Oh, I did. There’s a couple more,” Even says, swiping the screen for him. The next one shows only the main dining area that they’re currently sitting in. The last one, though, isn't a bird’s-eye view but a beautifully detailed version drawn from the perspective of someone standing by the front door, complete with the jukebox and vintage decor on the walls, with colored pencils providing splashes of red and gray that Isak can clearly imagine as shiny chrome. 

“You draw, too?” Isak can’t help asking. 

Even just looks at him with a tiny smile for a moment before nodding, then shrugging. It might just be Isak’s imagination, but he thinks Even might be blushing just a little.

“They’re good,” Isak tells him, and yeah, not his imagination. Even’s cheeks are definitely pink now. It’s fucking adorable. 

They don’t break eye contact for several seconds, and okay, Isak had been doing just fine until now. He’s been able to mostly ignore the way Even’s eyes catch the sunlight, and the effortless swoop of his hair, and the way every one of his perfect teeth show when he laughs and his mesmerizing voice and his sinful, beautiful mouth. This had all been so damn _professional_ and he’d been doing _fine._ Now, though... the mood has shifted, and Isak doesn’t know what to do.

It’s agonizing and breathtaking all at once. Something practically tangible is crackling between them, all stemming from a simple compliment Isak had bestowed with no ulterior motive. Unable to bear the silence, he picks up the glass of water to take a long sip from it, but when he sets it back down, Even’s still staring at him, and he keeps staring as he reaches for the glass himself, almost draining it before replacing it on the table. 

“Anyway,” Even says quietly, after what feels like forever, and Isak almost breathes a sigh of relief. “The menu?” he asks, and Isak nods gratefully.

Even pulls the iPad back toward himself and taps the screen a few times, then clears his throat. “Oh,” he says, looking back up at Isak. “I should probably explain first - we’re going to be fully halal. Are you-- do you know what that means, specifically?”

“No pork,” Isak replies at once. “And there’s something about the meat that _is_ served, but I’m not exactly sure.”

“Right, it’s the method of slaughter, and the animal must be blessed by a Muslim beforehand,” Even says, and Isak nods. “We’ll be using the same halal butcher the Bakkoushes used for many years when they ran their own restaurant. Also, there won’t be any alcohol sold.”

_That_ surprises him much more. “Really? In Oslo?”

Even chuckles, shaking his head. “I know. Believe me, we struggled with it. I drink some but Yousef doesn’t at all, but he understands that alcohol sales are important for a restaurant. In the end, though, the opinion of Sana’s parents was more important, since they’re helping us out so much with the startup. They didn’t exactly give us an ultimatum, but it was close.”

“Damn,” Isak says softly. 

“Yeah. I mean--” Even laughs again, and Isak could swear the blush comes back to his cheeks as he says, “There’s always beer upstairs at my place, if you want one, but not down here.”

Jesus, had that been an invitation? Isak smiles back at him, but his eyes have narrowed; he’s staring hard at Even and trying to read between the lines. “Good to know,” he replies after a moment, and Even gives him a small nod before looking back down at the tablet.

“Okay, so. Like I said, we’re still working on it, but we’ve got the basics finalized. A few different sandwiches, fried chicken, a couple of salads, steaks, breakfast served all day” --Isak raises his eyebrows but says nothing, already anticipating the wonder of being able order waffles for dinner and not be stared at for it, and reminds himself to tell Mahdi-- “and of course, a bunch of different kinds of burgers. And fries. And macaroni and cheese, because it’s a fucking diner.”

“Mmm, tell me about the burgers, though.”

Even grins at him. “Well, there’s the basic cheeseburger, but we’ll have a few different cheeses to choose from. And you can dress it up with lots of stuff. Turkey bacon, barbeque sauce, guacamole, mushrooms, grilled onions, chili, jalapenos...”

Isak tries very hard not to let out a moan. “You’re making me _hungry._ ”

Laughing, Even says, “Seriously, let me cook you something! I’m sort of dying to show off here.”

And Isak barely hesitates before beaming right back at him, nodding hard. “Let’s do it.”

When they get to the kitchen, the first thing Even does is slip off his hoodie and toss it onto the counter beside Isak. He starts rubbing his hands together, his mind clearly whirling through possibilities of what he could make, but Isak is just stuck on _hello shoulders, hello **arms**_ and it’s really rather embarrassing. 

“Burger, yeah?” Even asks him, and Isak tries to clear his head.

“Sure, yes. With whatever on it. I’m not picky.”

Even is washing his hands at the sink, and at Isak’s reply, he looks over his shoulder to give him a wink. “Something special, then. Not on the menu yet.”

First, he slices about a quarter of a red onion into thin strips and throws them on the flat-top grill with a little butter, then he runs a block of cheddar cheese over a grater. Isak stays well out of the way of Even’s quick movements, his long arms seeming to reach in ten different directions at once. He’s stirring the onions, mincing a clove of garlic into very fine pieces (the sound of the rapid knife clicks on the cutting board is terribly impressive), grabbing miniature buns, seasoning ground beef with salt and pepper and the garlic and a splash of some dark liquid, the bottle disappearing before Isak can read its label. Then he presses the meat into six small, thin patties.

“Are you eating, too?” Isak asks, gesturing toward the number of burgers Even’s making.

But Even shakes his head with a smile. “In Minnesota they have this burger called the Juicy Lucy,” he explains, now giving the meat a bit of final shaping. Isak repeats the English term to himself, quite liking the way it sounds. “They put the cheese in between two thin patties and seal them together, so the cheese melts inside as the burger is cooking.” 

Isak’s entire mouth fills with saliva as if on cue. Even meets his eyes, the twinkle in his own utterly ridiculous, and raises both eyebrows. “Sound good?”

“Uh-huh,” is all Isak can say, staring at Even’s fingers as he arranges the freshly grated cheese on top of the patties and then presses them together into three mini burgers, crimping the edges. Even lays them on the grill, grease popping and spattering everywhere, and Isak’s stomach is growling so loudly it can probably be heard _outside._

Since they’re so small, it only takes a couple of minutes for the burgers to be done. During that time, Even has lightly toasted the buns and tasted the grilled onions (“Perfect,” he mumbles to himself, and Isak has to resist asking for a sample). Cheese is oozing out of the middle of the burgers, just a little, just enough to make Isak’s mouth water even more than it already is. 

Even grabs a plate and deftly assembles the mini burgers on it, muttering something about wishing he’d thought of doing a garnish - Isak couldn’t care less how it _looks,_ he just wants to eat it already. But Even makes him wait a little longer; holding the finished plate in one hand, he plucks another glass from the stack, fills it with ice and water, and at last sets everything majestically in front of Isak. “Dig in,” he says in English, wearing a truly dorky grin, and Isak spares him a return smile for exactly half a second before doing just as he’s been told.

The first bite is utter bliss, an actual taste of heaven, and he can’t help letting out a loud groan. Even is just _glowing_ beside him, watching Isak very closely and almost bouncing on his toes. Isak wants to just cram the entire burger into his mouth - and he probably could, given its size - but he wants, _needs_ to savor every morsel, so he chews slowly, eyes closed, still moaning happily every couple of seconds.

“Is it good?” Even asks, and Isak nods with his eyes still shut. “I’m glad,” Even says softly.

Isak has to clarify, though. “It’s amazing,” he tells him around his current bite, then immediately remembers how rude it is to talk with your mouth full. Even doesn’t seem to mind since he’s still grinning at him, but Isak holds up a finger and takes a long sip of water. “I’m serious, it’s probably the best burger I’ve ever had,” he says, and he’s totally not just saying that to curry favor. It’s the absolute truth. 

And yeah, it really does taste ridiculously delicious, but that's only part of it. _Even_ made it for him, with his own hands, right there in front of him, just because he wanted to feed him. No guy has ever cooked for him before. Obviously Isak knows this isn't _that,_ but whatever, he's going to allow himself to enjoy the thought anyway. 

He picks up the second one and has to shut his eyes again as he chews, sighing deeply through his nose. “This needs to go on the menu,” he declares, once again speaking before he’s finished the bite.

“That size, or a regular-sized one?”

Isak tries to frown, but it’s difficult to achieve when he’s eating something this delicious, so he shakes his head instead. “Listen, if someone tried to eat a bigger version of this, they’d just--” He catches himself just in time, biting back the rest of what he’d been about to say: “come all over themselves.” Because _yeah,_ not the the greatest thing to spit out in front of one’s new boss. He manages to cover it well by taking a quick drink, and finishes instead with “--die, or something.”

Even narrows his eyes, smirking at him just a little, as if he knows exactly what Isak had been about to say. “Okay,” he replies in a decisive tone, giving Isak a curt little nod. “Well, seeing as you’ve just made your first menu recommendation, I guess this is a good time to ask.” He waits until Isak has finished chewing and is looking directly at him, then asks, his eyes glittering, “Want to come and work with us?”

“Yes. Definitely.” Isak doesn’t have to think about it for a single second. He’s _in._

“Awesome,” Even grins, and shakes Isak’s hand to seal the deal. Then he spreads both arms and adds, in English, “Welcome to the Throwback Diner!”

Isak’s eyes widen, and so does his smile. “‘Throwback’?” he repeats, laughing. “That’s _great,_ fuck. Magnus didn’t mention...”

“Oh, we just settled on it this morning,” Even replies, waving a hand. “You think it works then, cool.”

Isak is nodding enthusiastically while taking a bite of the third and last mini burger, which he quickly swallows, and holds the burger out to Even. “Want some?”

“Hmm, so it’s the best you’ve ever had, but not good enough for you to want to eat every single bit. Is that it?” 

Even is clearly joking, but Isak plays along, pretending to take great offense. “I’m being _polite,_ okay? Just-- no, you can’t have any. It’s mine.” He jerks the burger back just as Even is reaching for it, holding it protectively close to his chest. “Make your own if you’re hungry.”

Even bursts out laughing, and Isak is giggling too as he takes another bite. The obvious ease between them is making this whole experience even better; Isak honestly can’t remember the last time he felt this good. 

They’re still chuckling when they hear the front door opening and Yousef’s voice calling hello. Since Isak has just taken yet another bite (only one or two left now) Even responds for both of them. “We’re in the kitchen!”

Yousef appears a moment later, now dressed much more casually - and wearing a snapback, to Isak’s amusement - and surveys the scene. “You got him to eat!” he exclaims to Even, smiling and holding up his hand for a high five.

“ _So good,_ ” Isak replies around his food, because really, screw being proper at this point. 

Even nudges his shoulder, and for a second Isak thinks he’s going to be scolded, but then Even is giving Yousef a smug little smile and saying, “Meet the first member of our wait staff.”

“Hey!” Yousef practically yells, embracing Isak before he’s really prepared for it. He just barely manages to drop the last bite of burger onto the plate in time to hug Yousef back. When Even takes advantage of the moment to steal it and pop it into his mouth with a wink to Isak, he can’t be mad at all.

“That’s awesome, this is so great,” Yousef says, now holding Isak at arm’s length. “I was texting with Sana while I was gone and she was like ‘if Even doesn’t hire Isak tell him I’ll beat his ass’.”

Even lets out a breath between pursed lips, exchanging a look with Isak. “Saved from an ass-kicking. I owe you.”

“She beat my ass once in school,” Isak says solemnly, and pretends to wipe away a tear. “I still can’t talk about it. It’s too traumatizing.”

All three of them break into laughter, and Yousef hugs him again (just for the hell of it, Isak thinks) and then looks at Even expectantly. “Tuesday?” he asks.

Even nods. “I think so. Isak, can you come back on Tuesday morning to fill out the stupid paperwork and stuff? And then we can get started on, well, whatever needs to be done that day with the remodel. And I’ll probably have some new menu items for you to try, since Magnus will be here all day Monday.”

The mere thought of sampling more of Even’s food is enough to make Isak grin, nevermind the rest of it. “Sure, no problem. Hey, do you want me to try to recruit some more people for you?” Most of his friends are in school but only a couple have part-time jobs right now.

Yousef widens his eyes, nodding. “ _Yes._ We’re going to put up an ad on Finn, but any help would be great. Sana already spoke to Chris about it.”

“Chris _Berg?”_ Isak sputters.

“Yeah. She’s coming by on Monday to talk.”

Isak very deliberately bites his lip and looks away. _Chris..._ this is either a disaster in the making, or the single most brilliant hire in the history of restaurants. 

Luckily, Yousef is busy on his phone (from his mumbling Isak can tell he’s adding an entry to his schedule of Isak coming in on Tuesday), but Even gives him a curious look and raises his eyebrows. “You’ll understand when you meet her,” Isak says quietly, and gives Yousef a swift smile when he puts his phone away. “Okay so... Tuesday then. What time?”

“In the morning whenever. We’ll be here.”

“Oh!” Even says suddenly, and turns to Isak with a giddy smile. “There’s one more thing I forgot to mention. See, I have this amazing idea--”

“ _Even._ ” Yousef sighs, clearly exasperated, but Even shushes him.

“Okay, not really these days? But back in the 50s and 60s, wait staff at diners would be on _roller skates,_ ” he says with a dramatic flourish. “So I’d like to try that here. Can you skate?”

Isak’s mouth falls open. He shifts his eyes to Yousef, who’s shaking his head and is being no help at all, then looks back at Even and does his best to smile. “Sort of? It’s been a while, I’ll need to practice...”

But Even just waves a hand. “Yeah yeah, we don’t open for a month, you’ve got plenty of time. Just wanted to let you know!”

They all say their goodbyes then, Isak pretending not to be as shaken up by this crazy roller skating idea as he really is and trying to focus on the fact that he’s got a _great_ job opportunity with one of his best friends working close by and a couple of really amazing guys as his managers - one of whom is easily the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen, so coming to work every day will be a complete joy for that reason alone.

Once he’s outside, he pulls out his phone to send a text to his friends’ group chat: _Got the job! Start Tuesday morning._ Then he sends a private text to Magnus: _Thanks for warning me about how hot Even is. Really appreciate it._ He needs to call Jonas but doesn’t know if he’s in class or not, so he sets off for the tram stop, wanting to wait until he gets a return message to call him.

His phone pings before he’s even on the next block - a reply from Mags. _HA!! Yeah he is pretty fucking handsome isn’t he? Didn’t think about it sorry._ Isak just rolls his eyes. He shouldn’t have opened this door at all; now he’ll need to have a talk with Magnus before Monday about keeping his mouth shut around Even, because he absolutely would blab about what Isak had just said.

Mahdi texts his congratulations, and then Jonas does as well, just as Isak is boarding the tram. He immediately dials Jonas’s number, hoping he’s free and not just messing around on his phone during class.

“Heyyyy, what’s up, working man?”

“Got a minute? I need a favor.”

“Sure, I’m on my way home.”

Isak takes a deep breath. “Do you still have your old roller skates?”

\---------


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Listen, can you do something for me? Stop thinking of it as just my kitchen, or of this place as being just mine and Yousef’s. It’s _our_ place, all of ours. We’re building something together here.”
> 
> Even’s sincerity and the sappy yet very touching statement are almost too much for Isak. “Okay,” is all he can bring himself to say in response, because the words have unlocked some door in his heart he hadn’t even known was there. 
> 
> Even gives him another of those stunning smiles. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
> 
> Isak all but stumbles out the door, still reeling, and he’s not even sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Real life has been kind of a lot lately. **Warning:** Please be advised that there are numerous descriptions of food in this chapter! Special thanks to [Isi](http://isisisak.tumblr.com) for allowing me to use her headcanon of one scene in particular <3

Isak spends the entirety of Sunday and Monday trying to tell himself that attempting to master roller skates in three days isn’t _the_ dumbest thing he’s ever done to try to impress a guy, but it’s pretty close.

And then he’ll lose his balance and run into the wall, or their kitchen table, or one of his actual living breathing roommates (and it's a toss-up on whether they’re able to catch him in time to prevent them both falling) and he’ll just give up and admit that yeah, it’s the dumbest fucking thing ever. This just makes him work harder, and he’ll get better for a little while, and then the living room sofa seems to appear _out of nowhere_ and he crashes right into it, and the whole cycle starts over again. Idiotic. Completely ridiculous. What the hell is he thinking? Et cetera, et cetera. 

By Monday night, he’s pretty sure Linn is close to murdering him. He tries to tell her that he’s nursing way more bruises than she is, but she gives him a single chilling glare and he shuts right up. Isak knows it’s the noise that’s bothering her. The skates themselves are louder on the hardwood floor than he’d anticipated and that’s enough, but the racket he’s making by running into everything must be very annoying - not to mention the accompanying yelps and groans. “I’m sorry,” he manages to say in a very small voice, and Linn fixes that stare on him again as she slowly closes her bedroom door. Isak actually shivers once it’s shut.

Eskild, who has been sitting on the sofa calmly observing, lets out a low chuckle. “Isak, I can’t take this anymore. Please sit down.”

Isak shakes his head. “Can’t. I’m in a groove now. Haven’t fallen down for a whole half-hour.” He rolls down the hall, around the kitchen, and back out to the living room without a single incident, and grins at Eskild as he sails past him. “I got this shit, okay?” 

He gets to the back door and manages to turn himself around pretty painlessly, but on his way past the sofa this time, Eskild grabs his arm without warning and Isak’s feet slip out from under him. His back nearly smashes right into the coffee table, but Eskild yanks him toward the sofa just in time. “The _fuck,_ Eskild!”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.” Eskild helps him sit, patting his arms and knees and generally fussing over him, looking truly apologetic, but Isak bats his hands away, muttering in annoyance. “I thought I could give you momentum or something!” 

“By _stopping_ me?”

“No, I meant to like... swing you around or something. I don’t know! Are you hurt?”

“Mostly just my pride,” Isak grumbles, and lifts his right leg so he can roll his sore ankle in circles. He hates these fucking skates.

He’s not looking at Eskild, but he can feel Eskild’s eyes on him and knows they’re narrowed in scrutiny. “What?” 

“What is this about, really?” Eskild asks, his voice surprisingly soft. “I mean, it’s just a job. You’ve never tried like this at... well, anything.”

“I know, I just-- I really want to do well,” Isak lies. Okay, it’s technically not a lie, it’s just not the whole truth. 

“Does Sana know about this skating nonsense?”

“I don’t know.”

“I might text her. It’s not _safe._ ”

“I know!” Isak is exasperated now, with himself and with Eskild and the whole business. “And I know it’s probably not going to last anyway. Yousef was not happy about it.”

“Then why--”

“Okay listen,” Isak interrupts, because Eskild is going to get it out of him sooner or later. “This guy Yousef is running the place with, Even?” When Eskild nods, Isak closes his eyes for a second, bracing himself. “He’s... hot. Like really, _really_ hot.”

“Oh, _Isak._ ”

“ _I know._ ” Isak tips his head back on the sofa’s headrest and rolls it toward Eskild, putting on his most pitiful expression. 

“Honey, come on. I know it’s been awhile since you went out with somebody but _come on._ ”

“Leave me alone.”

“Is that what’s really going on here? You’ve risked breaking your leg for the last two days so you can go in there tomorrow and be like ‘oooh, Even, watch what I can do’?” 

God, it’s infuriating when he’s right like this. But after living together for three years, they know each other pretty damn well, so Isak really shouldn't be surprised. “Basically, yeah,” he replies with a deep sigh.

“That’s adorable. And pathetic.”

Isak just whines, and flops his body forward so he can start unlacing the skates. He’s had enough.

“Hold on a second - Even runs the place with Yousef, right?” Isak nods, and Eskild gives him an incredulous look. “So he’s your boss.” That one isn’t a question.

“Yeah,” Isak says warily, pretty sure he knows what’s coming next.

“You can’t sleep with your boss.”

“Eskild!”

“ _Isak!_ You _can’t!_ ”

“Nobody said I was going to!”

“Oh shut up, you can get anybody you want.”

“You haven’t seen him. He’s so far out of my league I don’t know why I’m even thinking about it. And I don't know if he likes guys anyway.”

Eskild opens his mouth to retort, then snaps it shut again and breathes out heavily through his nose. “Well, whatever,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t matter if he does or not because like I said, you can't fuck your boss.”

“Why don’t you ever want me to have nice things?” Isak asks miserably, and doesn’t even protest with Eskild hits him in the face with a throw pillow.

\---------

_**Tirsdag 07:48** _

_**From Chris B:** Hey sexy. See you at work later ;)_

Well, if that isn't just a simply marvelous way to start the morning. 

She's always been like this. He's been out since their second year at Nissen, but Chris had continued to playfully poke at him right through until the end of school; he's seen her a few times since and those encounters were more of the same. They both know it's all in good fun, but sometimes it still irks him. Truth be told, he’s more than a little anxious at the thought of working side by side with her. She's the definition of unpredictable. 

Yousef had asked him to be at Throwback sometime in the morning, so Isak is shooting for 10am - not super early, but not strolling in at the very end of ‘morning’ either. He’d left Jonas’s roller skates propped next to his backpack last night, since he’s planning to take them along today. But looking over at them now, still in his warm, comfortable bed... does he have to? Really? Just thinking about it makes his ankles twinge with pain.

Of course he puts them in his bag before he leaves, though. He’s not going to wimp out on this. 

The problem is that they’re too big for the backpack; he can’t close it properly and two wheels are sticking out. When he climbs onto the tram, Isak wonders if he’s just imagining the scornful looks from the other passengers.

Why couldn’t Even have wanted the wait staff on _skateboards?_ Fuck. He sucks at that too but at least carrying one around would look cool.

He’s intended to just text Yousef when he arrives, so Yousef can let him in, but when he gets to the restaurant he can see several people moving around inside - contractors? He tries the front door, and it’s unlocked, so he steps in cautiously. 

Yousef is the first person he sees, luckily, and he greets Isak with a grin. “Good morning!” he says, a bit loudly to be heard over the sound of hammering. 

“Hi! Should I come back later?” Isak asks, looking around at all the activity. At least five people are here in the dining room doing various things with wood and power tools. 

As if on cue, most of the noise stops, and Yousef smiles knowingly. “Nope. They’ve been here since 7, and we asked them to take a long break around 10 since you and Chris were coming in. Just for today.”

“Is she here?”

“Not yet. In about a half hour. Oh, Magnus is here, though. In the kitchen with Even if you want to say hello. They’ve been cooking for an hour already.”

Isak's belly fills with butterflies at the mere mention of Even’s name. He quickly tries to think of an excuse to put off going in to see them, just until he collects himself, but there's no time. 

“Isak!” Magnus’s cheerful voice fills the room, and Isak can see him looking over at the two of them through the kitchen window. He smiles at his friend automatically, and just then Even’s face pops into view right beside Mags, a bright red bandana tied around his forehead to keep his hair out of his eyes while he’s cooking. 

“Hi!” God, Isak’s had _dreams_ about that voice. He thought he’d been prepared for hearing it in person again, and now he realizes he’d been very mistaken. “We’ve got some good stuff for you guys to sample.”

Something seizes in Isak's brain then, some wild thirst to be reckless. He's speaking before he knows the words are coming out of his mouth. “Guess what I was practicing all weekend?” He slings his backpack off one shoulder and pulls the top open, tilting it so Even can see the skates. “Looks like we’ll both be showing off.”

Even had already been smiling and now it becomes as bright as a fucking sunbeam, his eyes nearly disappearing. “Awesome!” he exclaims, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel slung over his shoulder before moving out of view. A second later, he’s hurrying around the corner out of the kitchen toward Isak, Magnus following closely behind. “I didn’t expect you to be ready so soon!”

“Okay, I don’t know if _ready_ is really accurate,” Isak says, suddenly nervous again. “I’m okay on them.”

“Can we see?” Magnus asks, grinning innocently.

Isak grits his teeth. He’d once fallen squarely on his ass at the skate park with Mags and Jonas, and Mags had dragged him for weeks afterward. That had been the end of his attempts at skateboarding, while he still had a few shreds of dignity. Magnus doesn’t appear to be recalling that incident right now though, and maybe he’s forgotten all about it. “Sure,” Isak replies, plastering on what he hopes looks like an easy smile. 

As he moves toward a booth so he can sit and put the skates on, he notices Yousef looking worried. For a second Isak thinks he might put a stop to this little demonstration, but then Yousef’s phone rings and he’s distracted with what’s clearly an important call, actually retreating to the kitchen to talk, so Isak has lost his one ally. 

Fingers shaking slightly, he finishes lacing the skates and takes a deep breath. Even is giving him an encouraging smile, and Magnus is just plain excited, and seeing both of their reactions helps with his confidence. 

He still feels like a total idiot, though.

To his great shock, the first 30 seconds or so are actually pretty impressive? He manages to circle the dining room without running into anything, dodging the various tools and pieces of wood laying all over the place by sticking to the perimeter as much as possible. Even and Magnus are both cheering for him (Mags starts to whoop loudly but Even elbows him and points to the kitchen where Yousef is on the phone, and Magnus quiets down immediately), and Isak is just about to the point of being able to smile at his accomplishment. 

But then his left skate clips the edge of a tarp on the floor and he wobbles, his arms pinwheeling. Even shouts his name and Isak’s attention is irresistibly drawn to him, throwing him further off balance, but he manages to stay upright for another couple of seconds until--

“Even, catch him!” Magnus shouts.

The command is hardly needed - Even is ready for him. Isak glimpses his open arms and wide eyes for an instant just before he crashes directly into him, both of them nearly tumbling to the floor before Even is able to rock them forward again, just in time for Mags to come running over to help. 

“Shit, shit that was close, are you okay?” Magnus is babbling, but Isak hardly hears him. He doesn’t want to, not when he’s locked in Even’s strong grip and his whole body is pressed flush with Even’s, not when their faces are this close together and all Isak would have to do is turn his head just a tiny bit and their lips could--

“ _Are_ you okay?” Even asks him then, his voice low and anxious. “Did you turn your ankle or anything?” One of Even’s hands is suddenly very near Isak’s face, about to cup his cheek, but Even seems to stop himself and very gently brushes his fingertips over his jaw instead. His other arm tightens around Isak’s waist, too, and Isak almost hums with pure contentment, completely forgetting about how he ended up here. “Isak?” 

“Hmm? No, no, I’m fine.” It’s doubtful he’s ever _been_ more fine. Even isn’t letting go, either, and Isak has no intention of trying to wiggle away, Magnus standing there gaping at them or not. 

“Should I help you over there to sit so you can take these off?”

For a split second, Isak’s adrenaline-charged brain takes this ridiculous scene a step further by picturing Even kneeling on the floor to remove the skates _for_ him, and yeah, that’s enough. He shakes his head slightly to clear it and frowns, trying to make sense of the question, then replies, “Yeah-- no! Um, I can make it myself.” Now that the moment is over the embarrassment is rushing in all at once. Even probably thinks he’s a helpless little flower, what with offering to guide him by the hand and everything. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Isak mutters, extracting himself from Even’s arms and turning away to hide his bright red face, then rolls to the nearest booth very carefully. He doesn’t need another spill.

Magnus slides into the booth across from him, concern still all over his face. “That was bad luck,” he says sympathetically. “You were doing great until you ran over that tarp.”

Ordinarily when he’s this annoyed Isak would probably lash out at him, but he thinks better of it with Even watching. Besides, Mags is just trying to make him feel better. So he just smiles at him, shrugging, and bends down to work on the skates. 

Just then Yousef emerges from the kitchen. “Did I miss the action?” 

All three of them just look at him and then at each other, unsure of what to say, and then Even says quietly, “You may have a point about it being dangerous.” 

“Fuck,” Yousef snaps. “Are you hurt?” Isak quickly shakes his head, and Yousef’s expression relaxes somewhat. “I _told_ you,” he says to Even, who almost seems to shrink back. “And you think you’re getting _me_ into a pair of those things? Not in a hundred years.”

“Wait,” Isak says, forgetting about removing his skates for a moment. “Why would you need them? You’re not going to be on wait staff, too?” He’d assumed Yousef would just stroll around the place making sure the customers were all happy, chatting with everyone and pouring on the charm. The perfect maître d'.

Yousef still looks irritated, but he tries to smile at Isak. “I am, yeah, at least to start out. That way we don’t have to hire an extra person. Just you, Chris, and hopefully two others.”

“Did you know Chris has been working at Villa Paradiso in Løkka?” Magnus asks Isak, who looks at him and shakes his head. “Yeah, for like eight months. So she’s probably pretty good at it. But she said she’s sick of going home smelling like Italian food and wanted a change of scenery.”

He knows that Mags is just trying to move the conversation away from the whole skates nonsense but honestly, the one-two punch of making a fool of himself in front of Even (who he still can’t really look at) and hearing that Chris already has several months of experience just makes him feel very small and stupid. 

And as if she’d just been waiting to hear her introduction, the front door bangs open and in comes Chris herself - but she’s not walking. She’s not on skates, either. She’s on her fucking _hoverboard._

“What’s up, boys?” she announces, whipping off her sunglasses and grinning widely over at them. Isak’s mouth drops open, somewhere between shocked and frankly appalled at her audacity, but Even, Yousef, and Magnus all let out loud hellos, laughing and clapping as she rolls smoothly into the middle of the dining room. “Skates are boring. Thought this baby could bring some style to the place.”

Even and Yousef are both still laughing with real delight. Chris gives each of them high fives as she passes, then comes to a stop next to the booth where Magnus is gazing at her in near awe and Isak is still wearing one half-unlaced skate. “Aww,” she coos, nudging his foot with her own while somehow staying perfectly balanced on the hoverboard. “Isn’t that cute?”

Then she hops off, winking at him as she unsnaps her helmet. She tucks it under her arm as she shakes out her hair, looking like she’s in a goddamn shampoo commercial or something, and looks over at the still-beaming Yousef and Even. “Let’s get to _work!_ ”

\---------

Isak tries his best to be invisible for the rest of morning. After his little disaster-on-wheels presentation he feels like Magnus and Even want to start snorting every time they look at him anyway, and Chris is just, well, stealing the spotlight. That’s fine, Isak has never craved the spotlight to begin with, but she’s just so... _grating._ She’s very loud, and seems to have zero inhibitions or sense of propriety around her brand-new bosses, but neither of them seem to care in the slightest and are laughing right along with her, which is even more annoying. She keeps giving Isak those same little lascivious stares she has for years now, too, and although he’s still too embarrassed to look at Even for too long, he knows Even sees her doing it. Hopefully he also sees that Isak is not returning any of them.

The one bright spot is getting to taste the half-dozen dishes Even and Magnus have prepared for them. It’s nothing very complicated - burgers with different toppings, a Cobb salad, a steak-and-cheese sandwich, and another sandwich called a Reuben that Isak thinks he could eat every single day of his life. In fact, he can’t find fault with any of the plates, but Yousef and Chris bring up several little things that they think could be tweaked, so he just sits quietly while the rest of them discuss it. 

Either his palate isn’t very refined or he just doesn’t want to think Even could ever do anything less than perfect. Frankly, neither is something he wants to admit out loud.

The taste-testing is done after an hour or so, but Isak remains sitting at the booth nibbling on fries that have now gone mostly cold. He’s watching Yousef take a turn on Chris’s hoverboard, which is clearly a highlight of his life given how widely he’s smiling. (“Doesn’t Sana still have hers?” “Yes, but she’s never let me on it!”) Magnus is cleaning the grill under Even’s instruction, or so Isak thinks, but when Even suddenly slides into the booth opposite him, wearing that beautiful smile, Isak curses himself for not paying more attention.

“You didn’t say much while we were eating,” Even says softly, stealing a fry from the plate. 

Isak shrugs. “They seemed to be critiquing, and I didn’t have anything to contribute.”

“I _want_ you to, though.”

“Everything tasted amazing to me!”

Chuckling, Even bows his head and lays a hand over his heart. It’s almost too much for Isak to take. “Seriously, there wasn’t anything you’d change?”

Isak pretends to think for a moment, a smile creeping over his face and betraying him, but he says it anyway. “The salad had too much lettuce.”

“Ah,” Even replies with a small smile. “But just enough of everything else?”

“Yep.”

“Mhm. You don’t strike me as a vegetables sort of guy anyway.”

Isak makes a grotesque face. “No, definitely not. I can barely tolerate tomatoes on a burger.”

Even widens his eyes and deadpans, “There were tomatoes in the salad, too.” When Isak makes the face again, Even snorts with laughter. “Tomatoes are fruit, anyway.”

“Well, I’m not big on fruit either.”

Even laughs again, shaking his head, and starts to say something else but is interrupted by Yousef calling his name. Both he and Isak look over to see Yousef balanced precariously on the hoverboard, Chris holding both of his hands and trying not to fall over laughing. “I changed my mind. If I can get Sana to lend hers, can they do hoverboards instead of skates?”

“ _No!_ ” Isak and Even reply in unison, quite unexpectedly, and all four of them laugh loudly. Mags runs in, still holding the grill brush and demanding to know what he’s missing. Even leaves Chris to explain it to him and turns back to Isak. “I don’t know what I was thinking with that skates idea. Yousef’s been trying to tell me for weeks.”

Isak’s face flushes, but not nearly as much as it had earlier today. “I mean, I think I’d be fine with more practice? But yeah, the potential for accidents is...”

“Yeah,” Even replies. “I guess I just didn’t think it through. You could have really gotten hurt, and you weren’t even carrying anything. Imagine trying to navigate through this place holding plates and glasses when it’s full of people.” He shakes his head, staring down at the plate between them, now holding just a few small bits of French fry. “I’m sorry for putting you in that sort of danger,” he says quietly, not meeting Isak’s eyes.

Isak can hear the other three laughing and playing with the hoverboard, but the sounds seem very distant. “Hey,” he says, leaning forward over the table. He almost reaches for Even’s hand, too, and is able to stop himself just in time. When Even looks back up at him, Isak gives him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault at all. I’m the one who just had to bust in here determined to impress you.”

Even’s eyebrows shoot up, and it’s only then that Isak realizes how his words could be interpreted. Before he can say anything to temper it, Even replies, “Impress me? Well, you certainly did that. Until, you know...” He tilts his head, and the two of them snicker softly. “But that was just bad luck.”

“Not really. I-- I’m clumsy as shit. I don’t even know why I thought I could do it in the first place.”

Even tips his head back, giving Isak that same appraising gaze through narrowed eyes that he had during their interview. He hums and then says, “You’ve impressed me in other ways, though. Agreeing to work here at all was pretty impressive. I mean, I have high hopes, of course, but we have no clue if this will all just turn out to be a pipe dream.”

If that happens, Even and Yousef clearly have much more to lose than he does, but he’s not about to say that out loud. Not when Even is _complimenting_ him. “It seems like it’ll be a lot of fun,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a loud burst of laugher from Chris, Yousef, and Magnus. The two of them look over and see Magnus wobbling like crazy on the hoverboard, Chris and Yousef each holding a hand and trying their best to keep him upright.

“Yeah... everyone’s going to just stay on solid ground around here,” Even says firmly, and gives Isak a wink.

That sounds just fine, except Isak is starting to feel like he’s walking on air whenever Even is around.

\---------

_**Tirsdag 21:19** _

_**To Jonas:** Thanks for the skates but I don’t need them anymore. I’ll return them. Uh. Sometime._

_**From Jonas:** Yeah Mags said you wiped out. Sorry. Give them back to me whenever._

_**To Jonas:** Is that all he told you about it?_

_**From Jonas:** Yeah why?_

_**To Jonas:** No reason._

\---------

For the first week Isak barely feels as though he’s going to a job at all because the days are just so much _fun._

Magnus always arrives early to help Even cook the sample dishes for the day, and after Isak and Chris get there, they usually spend the first hour or so eating and discussing them. At Even’s request, Isak’s learning to speak up about whatever he thinks could be improved, but nearly everything tastes great to him. The two big exceptions are meatloaf (“Honestly Even, what _is_ this? Ground beef should not taste like this. Ever.”) and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which all of them, Magnus included, think are just plain weird. Even looks so cute and _sad_ as he removes the plates with the half-eaten PB &Js, mumbling something about “it’s the all-American sandwich, though” and Isak almost asks for his plate back just to appease him. 

After eating, they’ll scatter throughout the building for various tasks. One day Isak helps the contractors attach the thin sheets of stainless steel to the walls behind the booths while Chris and Even debate where to hang vintage signs and Yousef conducts interviews. The day after that, it’s Isak and Yousef playing decorator while Even does the interviews, and Chris dons a hard hat and is _supposed_ to be working but really just flirts with the guys installing the new neon lighting. Magnus is in the kitchen, all day every day, with Even or alone, poring over recipes and muttering to himself.

Each day is different, but a few things remain the same: Chris still shreds Isak’s last nerve, Mags’s cooking skills get better and better, and every time Even smiles, Isak falls just a little bit harder for him.

Things are definitely coming together, though. Sana comes by on Thursday with an updated finance report for Yousef and Even, and tells them with a smile that she’s been able to move some things around and they’ll have enough in the budget for the new red vinyl booths, so everyone takes a break from working to celebrate (Yousef spends half of it placing the booth order, which is just like him, really).

And on Saturday, Isak wakes up late to a frantic series of texts from Yousef and Even: _The jukebox came! GET OVER HERE!!!_

They’d told Isak, Magnus, and Chris that they’d have the weekend off, but Isak is too excited to care. They’ve been counting the days until this damn juke arrives - there had been no updates to its tracking progress all day Friday and Even had practically torn his hair out. 

It’s a vintage Wurlitzer 1015 - Even can’t stop babbling about how _iconic_ the model is and how _authentic_ having it will make the diner, no matter that it’s been heavily modified to play CDs instead of old LP records, and the rest of them roll their eyes at each other, because they’ve heard this a dozen times by now. It _is_ awfully pretty, Isak has to admit, and the aqua neon bubble lighting will look fantastic against all the red once the remodel is done.

“Can we test it out?” Chris asks. “I mean, it just needs to be plugged in, right?”

Isak smirks. “If you happen to have any American coins on you, sure we can test it.”

The four of them just stare at him in confusion, and then Even bursts out laughing. “I was totally kidding with you about that! No, it’s all set up to just play for free. The guy in the States fixed the coin thing, too.”

Well, now he feels dumb. “Are you serious? You let me believe all this time?”

Even is still smiling (because of course he is) and is somehow able to put on a convincing pout anyway. “Were you plotting how to get rolls of quarters? I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I had this whole email chain going with an American bank and we were _almost there._ All that wasted time. You owe me.”

Even playfully nudges Isak’s shoulder, then nods towards the others crowded around the jukebox. “Let’s take a look at the song selection, shall we?” he says in a posh little accent that really shouldn’t make Isak’s knees weak but does anyway. 

They move in closer, Even reaching through with one of his long arms to take over and flipping back to the beginning of the list of songs.

Many of the artists are familiar names to Isak, though not all. Chuck Berry. The Four Seasons. Buddy Holly. The Beatles. Jerry Lee Lewis. Fats Domino. The Rolling Stones. Frank Sinatra. The Everly Brothers. The Beach Boys. Little Richard. The Drifters. The Platters. Dean Martin. And of course, Elvis.

Chris immediately punches in the letter-and-number combination for “Hound Dog” and grabs Yousef’s hand, pulling him into a ridiculous little dance. The sound quality is actually pretty amazing, and Isak can’t help smiling as he watches them, even catching himself singing along on the chorus.

“It’ll be better once it’s hooked into the main speaker system,” Even tells him. 

“I think it sounds pretty fucking great right now, actually,” Isak replies as he skims through the other Elvis songs, glancing over his shoulder to smile at Even. “Any requests?”

“Oh, all my favorite oldies are slow songs. Wouldn't fit the atmosphere right now.” Even nods toward their resident dancers - Yousef is holding Chris’s hand high above their heads while she spins and spins, both of them laughing like crazy. “But...” He leans right in close beside Isak, their shoulders touching, and Isak sort of forgets to breathe for a moment. Even flips through a few pages to get to other artists, and after a few seconds he taps a fingertip firmly on the plastic housing. “G-17. That one.”

Isak doesn’t look to see what song corresponds to that selection and just presses the buttons blindly - good timing too, since “Hound Dog” is just ending.

When the new song begins he doesn’t recognize it, but its beat and melody are perfect for the others to continue dancing. Mags cuts in, grabbing both of Chris’s hands and starting to swing them in an exaggerated manner. Isak thinks she’s going to pull away, but she just laughs again, completely getting into it.

“It’s ‘Why Do Fools Fall in Love’,” Even says, clapping his hands to the beat. “This version was in that movie _American Graffiti._ ” When Isak just looks at him blankly, Even rolls his eyes. “Such a classic. We’ll watch it sometime.” 

And before Isak can react to this, Even has shimmied over to Yousef, who takes his hands and begins to dance with him just as Chris and Magnus are. The four of them are whirling all around the dining room looking like absolute _dumbasses,_ but Isak still wishes he had a partner as well.

_Why does my heart skip a crazy beat? For I know it will reach defeat! Tell me why..._

\---------

On the following Tuesday, some new blood arrives.

“Everyone, meet Malin and Viktor.”

They’re both a few years older than Isak, both very experienced at waiting tables, and both Swedish, which Isak sits puzzling over for a while before Chris whispers to him that it’s actually a pretty common thing in Oslo. “Half my co-workers at Paradiso were Swedes,” she adds, twirling her hair with a mock vapid expression on her face, rolling her eyes. 

“You don’t like Swedish people?” Isak murmurs.

“I made fun of IKEA once at work. It spread around the restaurant and they all turned on me after that.” Chris’s eyes are very wide and Isak honestly can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “So yeah. Watch your back.” She gives Malin and Viktor a long stare before standing up and wandering over to Even to see what the plan is for today.

The plan happens to be sampling _breakfast_ foods, which Isak has been looking forward to for days now. They’ve exhausted the lunch and dinner courses for the time being; Even needs some time to make their suggested adjustments to those, so he tells them he’ll bring back the new and improved versions next week, most likely.

“First, I have a very important question for you all,” Even says, looking around at them seriously. The bandana around his forehead is yellow today. “I need you to take your time with this, okay?” They all nod, and Isak notices Chris biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “Magnus?” Even calls into the kitchen, and a moment later Mags emerges carrying two large platters.

“Pancakes?” Magnus announces, holding the first platter forward, then the other, adding, “Or waffles?” Both are piled high, dripping with butter, and thicker than the ones they’re used to. The group stares at them for a moment as Even ducks into the kitchen for a variety of jams and syrups to go along with them.

“Like, we have to choose only one to eat today?” Chris asks. “Because I’m not gonna lie, I want both.”

“Me too,” pipes up Viktor, and Chris throws him a wink.

“No, choose which one goes on the menu,” Even replies patiently. “It seems excessive to have both. Most diners do pancakes, but Magnus has made a very strong case for waffles.”

“Respect!” Isak says loudly, holding up his fist for Mags to bump. “Mahdi would be proud.”

“Actually, it was Mahdi who made me tell him. I was telling him that American ones are really big-- well wait, Even said they’re technically _Belgian_ but Americans eat them like crazy, and--”

“That all sounds fascinating,” Chris interrupts, glaring at Magnus. “But can we please eat now?”

They dig in happily, dragging portions onto the smaller plates each of them have in front of them and fighting over the different toppings. After a few minutes of listening to their satisfied little moans, Even pulls a chair over and grabs a plate for himself. This is unusual for him - he prefers to just let everyone tell him what they think, and Isak eyes him curiously.

“I think I should weigh in on this one, too,” Even says calmly. “And Mags, so should you. We can’t risk a tie, so you make seven.”

“You already know what my vote’s going to be, though.”

Even stops with his fork halfway to his mouth to stare at Magnus, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Doesn’t matter,” he says at last. “Eat.”

Waffles win in the end, thanks to Isak, Magnus, Malin, and Even. 

Yousef pretends to glare at Even. “You did that on purpose.” He narrows his eyes and rubs his chin thoughtfully, then points at Even. “What’s your angle, Bech Næsheim?”

For the tiniest of moments, Even looks at Isak, who suddenly wonders if it was all for _him,_ somehow, but then Even just chuckles and says, “I just like waffles, man. That’s all.”

“Don’t even try it. I know you. You’re up to something.”

“Okay, yes, I am. Something that will blow all of your minds. Tomorrow. Prepare yourselves.”

\---------

The next morning, Even and Mags stuff them with three different types of omelettes, turkey bacon, hash browns, French toast, steel-cut oats, grits (all five of them shove their bowls away after the very first bite, and Even doesn’t seem the least bit surprised), and bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon (“Finally, something _Norwegian,_ ” Isak says, and promptly covers his face with his hands to shield himself from being pelted with bits of bagel from all directions). 

After the table is mostly cleared, as they’re all slumping in their seats and groaning about being too full, Even appears from the kitchen once more, carrying a platter high over his head, grinning from ear to ear.

“Like I said yesterday,” he says dramatically, “Your minds? About to be blown.” He brandishes the platter for a moment, teasing them, and finally lowers it to their eye level.

“The fuck is that?” Chris blurts out.

“Fried chicken, I think?” Isak supplies.

“But it’s sitting on top of the giant waffles,” Chris says. “And a thing of maple syrup on the side.”

“ _Yes!_ ” Even announces, clearly tickled to death that they’ve caught on so quickly. “Chicken and waffles!”

All of them, plus Magnus, who seems to have had no idea this was coming, just stare up at him. “Is-- is it breakfast?” Malin asks tentatively.

“It’s whatever you want it to be. Honestly, you guys have to try this.” Even picks up the last two clean plates from the stack they’d started with earlier and begins to divide the contents of the platter onto them. “Mags, you too, get a chair.”

Now, they’d all loved Even’s fried chicken the week before, so Isak is perplexed as to why he’d want to fuck with it like this. Mixing sweet and savory... it’s the same misapplied logic that made the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches such a failure. It’s not often that Even is wrong, but he thinks this might be one of those times.

Yousef obviously thinks so too, because Isak notices him watching Even very closely with a faint frown, or maybe just a look of mild concern. But he forgets all about it when Even suddenly plunks down a bottle of hot sauce right in front of him with a soft, “Here you go,” as if he’d already known Isak would want it. He’s doctored almost every single dish with it since the very first day, so he guesses it’s not too big of a stretch, but he’s still a little flustered that Even remembers.

They’re split half and half on the chicken and waffles, or perhaps the lines are even less clearly defined. The group sits and discusses it (quite loudly, at times) for nearly 15 minutes before Even finally calls a halt and declares that they’re putting a pin in it for now. “Or maybe just as a special sometimes,” he adds, and Isak wonders if he’s trying to cover up some hurt feelings. 

Overall, it’s kind of a weird morning, so Isak isn’t really sure if he should approach Even with this question he has. He decides to wait until they’ve gotten some work done - the checkerboard floor installation is starting today and one whole half of the dining room is blocked off for that, so it’s kind of a light day. 

Chris and Isak spend a couple of hours organizing the dry storage room (surprisingly for Isak, it’s not a bad time at all, because Chris finally seems to be growing on him) while Malin and Viktor do the same with the crockery and flatware, and Mags takes care of the walk-in. Over in their usual booth, Even and Yousef both have their laptops open and are tackling the menu design, and once when Isak walks by on his way back inside from a break, he overhears them discussing the pros and cons of starting an Instagram account for the diner. He practically runs to dry storage to tell Chris, who loves it, of course, and shocks Isak by giving him a high five.

Due to the floor, it’s tough for the staff to do much else, so Yousef and Even tell them they can head home early. Even adds that there won’t be anything new for them to taste in the morning, much to their dismay. All that’s really left are desserts, which will take a day or two of practice.

As Isak is gathering his stuff, he realizes that since Even seems to be back to his usual cheerful self it’s probably okay to talk to him for a minute, and he takes a deep breath before walking over to him at the booth.

“Hi,” he says, and immediately feels silly. “Um, Mags saying that our friend Mahdi made that request for waffles yesterday got me thinking about something?”

Even had looked up from his laptop as soon as Isak had spoken, giving him his full attention, and now he gives Isak a soft smile. “Yes?”

“Yeah, so I talked to my roommates about it, asking them if they had any suggestions or anything.” His heart is _pounding;_ with every word out of his mouth he’s becoming more certain that he’s crossing some line here. “My one roommate, Eskild, sort of ran with it and asked some of our other friends, too, and one of them, Noora, had something.” God, he sounds so stupid. And this request is going to be even dumber. “An omelette made with only the egg whites? Is that something you could look into?”

“Huh,” Even says thoughtfully, seeming to stare past Isak for a moment. “Sure, we could try that. I’ve had it before and I don’t really care for it, but it’s not difficult or anything.” He smiles at Isak again, and as usual, Isak has to focus very intently on not melting into the floor. “Magnus and I will work on it tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks, I know it's not super creative. I tried to tell her your kitchen is better than that, but she really wanted it, so.” Isak gives him a brief smile in return, and is about to say goodbye when Even reaches out to touch his arm gently.

“Listen, can you do something for me? Stop thinking of it as just my kitchen, or of this place as being just mine and Yousef’s. It’s _our_ place, all of ours. We’re building something together here.”

Even’s sincerity and the sappy yet very touching statement are almost too much for Isak. “Okay,” is all he can bring himself to say in response, because the words have unlocked some door in his heart he hadn’t even known was there. 

Even gives him another of those stunning smiles. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

Isak all but stumbles out the door, still reeling, and he’s not even sure why.

\---------

“Isak! Come in here for a minute?”

He’s just about finished with hanging the decor on this last wall anyway - if he looks at it for another single minute he’ll want to take everything down and re-do it all. So he gives it one last critical look and then steps away, walking into the kitchen to find Even alone for once. “What’s up?”

“Mags and I were working on that egg-white omelette, and I was wondering if you wanted to see how to make it?” Even’s eyes are sparkling, like they always do when he’s cooking, and the white bandana around his head makes them appear an even brighter blue than usual. 

“Oh, sure,” Isak smiles, sliding along the edge of the counter to move closer to him. 

“Or... you could help?”

Instantly, Isak freezes up. “Uh. How, exactly?”

“Nothing too scary, I promise. How are you at chopping things?”

“Terrible. I can barely cut a sandwich in half.”

Even snorts. “Okay, no sharp objects. Let’s see, um... oh, something really simple. Separating the eggs.”

“You mean cracking them open, right?” Isak deadpans, saying it just to see Even smile.

And he’s not disappointed, not in the slightest. “Mhm, exactly. Smartass.” Even glances around at the counter and adds, “Fuck, I guess Mags took the bowls we were using back to the dishwashing station. Excuse me.” 

Suddenly Even is much closer, _much_ closer, and gently places a hand on Isak’s hip as he leans around him, stretching his other arm to reach the stack of small mixing bowls on the shelf above them. “Sorry,” Even says quietly as he slides back to where he’d been standing, and his fingers linger on Isak’s hip for a little longer than necessary. When he finally pulls them away, the heat from his touch is so concentrated that it’s difficult for Isak to breathe at first. 

The whole thing had taken less than ten seconds, but it’ll be enough for him to live on for days.

“Okay, so,” Even is saying, now back to his normal volume. “There’s a few different methods. Some people do the passing the yolk back and forth between the shells thing, but that’s too much trouble. I like just using my hands.”

Isak almost _chokes._

Even taps an egg on the counter and deftly cracks it open with one hand, holding his other hand beneath it to catch the contents. “You just let the white slide between your fingers into the bowl, and cup the yolk in your palm,” he explains. “Easy.”

Although he’s still not completely recovered, Isak somehow finds the composure to say, “Yeah, it looks easy enough. Can I try?”

“Of course.”

He walks over to the sink to wash his hands, his heart still beating faster than usual and his feet not quite feeling as though they’re touching the ground. His hip is still warm.

The first egg drops whole into the bowl, yolk and all, because he’s not quick enough to get his hand under it. “I can’t do that one-handed cracking thing,” he complains, only whining a little bit.

“I know, that’s the only tough part about doing it this way. Just squeeze the shell gently and it’ll just sort of crumble. But not too much, or you’ll get pieces of shell in there.”

Isak messes up two more eggs and is starting to get annoyed with himself, but Even is endlessly patient. “You can try passing it back and forth instead if you want?”

“I just keep wasting your eggs.”

“ _Our_ eggs, remember. And you’re not wasting them. I’ll make regular omelettes for us for lunch.”

Isak is so startled by Even’s use of the word ‘us’ that he almost drops the next egg on the floor. “Back and forth?”

“Yeah, here, I’ll show you.”

Their fingers brush lightly as Even takes the egg from him, and he’s hardly had a second to deal with _that_ when Magnus appears in the doorway behind Even, and Isak’s heart sinks. “Isak! In the kitchen! What’s going on _here,_ hmm?”

Had Even’s shoulders slumped very slightly at the sound of his voice? Had his relaxed smile fallen, his eyes fluttered shut in frustration? Either Isak’s imagination is running completely wild, or all of these things definitely happened, and since he knows Even genuinely likes Magnus, there must be... some other reason. He just doesn’t want to think too hard about what it might be.

“Teaching him how to separate eggs,” Even replies, turning to look at Mags, and Isak can see that he’s smiling again. 

“Oh! Can I do it? Even showed me a better way this morning and I’m super proud of myself.”

Without waiting for an answer, Magnus grabs another egg from the carton and pulls an empty bowl in front of him. Isak’s insides start seething with jealousy as Mags does the one-handed crack perfectly. He knows it’s showing on his face, too, but he can’t help it.

“Just like that, right Even?” 

Even glances at Isak, their eyes locking for just a second, and once again Isak is sure he’s not making things up - there’s definitely disappointment there. “Mhm, just like that,” Even says, rubbing Magnus’s back with the appearance of nothing but pride. “Perfect.”

\---------

“God, I want a drink. Ten drinks. I’m exhausted.”

“It’s 3 in the afternoon.”

Chris has her face buried in her arms on the table, but she lifts it just enough to fix Isak with a really good glare. “Thank you. What would I ever do without you to tell me what time it is? You’ve saved my life, Isak, truly.”

Isak almost smiles. They’ve been spending far too much time together. He's obviously been a bad influence on her. 

“Hey, Malin?” Chris calls, and Malin leans out of the kitchen doorway, broom in hand. “Want to go for a beer?”

“I have plans with my boyfriend, sorry,” she replies, and she truly does look it. “Next time?”

“I wouldn’t mind a beer,” Isak says quietly, putting on a pout when Chris looks at him. “Were you going to invite me?”

“No,” she says, through gritted teeth. “You made me feel bad just now. And you still haven’t apologized for scaring me earlier when I came out of the bathroom.”

“I did too!”

“Not convincingly.”

“Oh, come on.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Aren’t you glad I didn’t do that _before_ you went in to pee?’”

“And then I said I was sorry!”

“Well, I didn’t believe you!”

“Do I have to put you two in time out?” Yousef’s voice cuts through their arguing, which clearly has increased in volume without either of them realizing it, since Yousef is all the way on the other side of the dining room. Both Isak and Chris immediately shut up, glancing at each other guiltily. 

Just then Even walks in, whistling, but his cheerful tune shifts into a comically descending scale when he sees the looks on their faces. “What’s going on?”

“Chris is grouchy and tired and needs a beer,” Isak says quickly, smirking at her and pretending not to notice when she kicks his foot under the table. “And I could use one too, really.”

Even shrugs, giving him a small smile. “There’s beer upstairs in my apartment, if you want.”

Until this moment, Isak had somehow forgotten Even mentioning this in his interview. He’d wildly speculated then if it had been a tentative invitation, and it seems now that he’d been correct. Sure, he would have felt better if Even wasn’t extending the invitation to Chris as well, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“Seriously?” Chris asks Even, all smiles now. “Hey, I never turn down free beer.” She holds up her hand for Even to high-five, which he does with a chuckle.

“Sure, why not? We got a ton of stuff done today, I think we deserve it. And it's Friday, so I can let myself clock out early. Isak, want to?” 

An immediate and emphatic ‘yes’ is on the tip of Isak’s tongue, of course, but then Even says, “Yeah, anyone can come if they want. I’ll go tell the rest.” And he’s off, practically running back into the kitchen to find Magnus, Viktor, and their new kitchen guy Martin.

It takes a moment for Isak to realize Even had left before waiting to hear his answer and feels a small twinge of hurt. He does his best to brush it off, smiling at Even when he returns with Mags and Viktor in tow. “Martin’s asking for a rain check, but these two are game,” he says happily, his eyes lingering on Isak for a little longer than on Chris. 

Then he calls over to Yousef to invite him as well, but Yousef replies that he’s expected at the Bakkoush home later. “You know how Aunty is,” he tells Even with a smile.

“Give her a hug from me,” Even grins, and then turns back to the rest of them. “I’m ready whenever you guys are!”

As they all head up the stairs, it hits Isak all at once that he’s about to see the inside of Even’s apartment for the first time. Where Even _lives._ His _bedroom,_ possibly. And he’s suddenly very grateful that the others will be there too, because he isn’t sure how or even if he’d be able to handle this if it were just him and Even by themselves.

Even’s place is cluttered and homey, not _messy,_ exactly, just very lived-in. Considering he’s only been there for a couple of months and usually spends at least 12 hours a day down in the restaurant, Isak finds this terribly endearing. He also appreciates that Even doesn’t do that fake ‘oh sorry for the mess’ thing that most people do when inviting others into their home. Nope, he just heads straight for the fridge and starts handing out bottles.

The atmosphere is instantly relaxing. Even turns on some music and they all collapse onto the sofa and into chairs, and the conversation just begins flowing very naturally. Chris is in her element, her earlier bad mood replaced by her usual cackling laughter and inappropriate comments, but for once Isak doesn’t want to roll his eyes at every single thing she does. It's a weird feeling.

Even though they all have fun together most of the time when they’re working, being around people all day who aren’t his best friends or his roommates has been a bit of a transition for Isak. It helps that Mags is there, definitely, and of course he’s known Chris for years too, and Yousef, although they haven’t been very close. The rest, however, have been completely new to him, so it’s taken a while for Isak to feel comfortable. Viktor and Malin are nice enough and easy to work with, and then of course there’s his complicated feelings about Even. 

But right now? Just sitting around with everyone, laughing and telling stories and talking about anything _other_ than work? It’s pretty much the best time he’s had in months.

Naturally, it doesn’t take long for Even to start itching to cook; he whips up some snacks for everyone, nice familiar _Norwegian_ snacks for once, and the good mood around the apartment ratchets up a few more notches.

A little later, Chris is regaling Viktor and Even with tales from Nissen on the sofa while Magnus peruses Even’s cookbooks - they’re _everywhere,_ not just in the kitchen - and Isak is taking advantage of the fact that Even is occupied to explore a bit. He doesn’t poke his head into the bedroom (although the temptation is strong) but he does wander through the kitchen and examine things in the living room. 

He’s looking through Even’s surprisingly large movie collection - perfectly alphabetized - and pondering a few of the choices when Even is suddenly beside him, holding out a fresh beer.

“I saw you’d finished yours,” Even says with a smile. 

Isak takes the bottle and raises it in thanks before taking a long sip. It’s his third beer in less than two hours, so he’s feeling just fine. “Just checking out your DVDs,” he says, gesturing to them. “Is this the one you mentioned when the jukebox came?” He taps the copy of _American Graffiti._ “You’ve got like... eight movies with ‘American’ in the title,” he adds, smirking slightly.

Even narrows his eyes at him and then grins, nodding. “That’s the one. I’m serious, we should watch it. It gave me a lot of inspiration for the diner.”

“Oh?” Isak takes another sip from his bottle, and as Even starts to ramble about the film’s plot, he notices that the bottle Even’s holding is the same one he’s had all afternoon, because he’s been steadily peeling off the label. 

When Even pauses for breath, Isak hums with interest as though he’s been listening the entire time, and then cuts in by asking, “Not thirsty?” and flicking his finger lightly against Even’s beer.

Even glances down at it, seeming surprised. “No, I just don’t really drink that much. One is enough for me.”

“Yet you just happened to have a stockpile of beer in your fridge, huh?”

Even’s reaction is totally unexpected. He lowers his eyes and presses his lips together as if trying to hide a smile, and Isak hopes it isn’t just the alcohol in his bloodstream that’s making his cheeks get pinker. “No, I, um...” Even starts, then shrugs and chuckles nervously. “I-- I’d been planning to invite you up here.”

Isak can’t stop his mouth from dropping open, any more than he can prevent squeaking out the word, “Me?”

Their eyes lock, both sets wide and momentarily terrified. Isak’s brain immediately begins to whirl - he _hasn’t_ been reading the signs wrong after all, has he?

“No! Well yes, I mean I-- all of you, invite everyone. Like I did today. To hang out. Like we are now.” Even’s words are clipped, as if his thoughts are starting to short-circuit. His face is most definitely red by now, and Isak knows his own is, too. “Or maybe just you, sometime. To watch...” Even reaches past Isak to awkwardly touch the copy of _American Graffiti,_ his arm brushing against Isak’s in the process. And just as it had the other day in the kitchen when Even touched his hip, Isak’s skin seems to tighten and burn and prickle all at once, like goosebumps on steroids. 

“We-- we could do that,” he blurts out, unable to understand how he’s able to form actual words right now. “Or _Rebel Without a Cause_?” he adds. “I know you’ve mentioned that one a couple times, too. Inspiration and stuff.”

Even lets out a long, slow breath, as if he’d been holding it, and a slow smile spreads over his face. “Yeah, we should,” he says softly, nodding. “We should.”

\---------

But they never quite get the chance to do it. 

Everyone has such a great time hanging out up at Even's that it becomes a regular thing. Not every night, but at least once or twice a week, and they all take turns buying the beer. Malin and Martin join in, and even Yousef a couple of times (which is delightful, although he does act like a bit of a hall monitor and shoo them all out earlier than they’d like so he and Even can go back downstairs to get more work done).

Isak wishes he just had the balls to tell them all to _go away._ Or to ask Even privately if they can hang out by themselves one night, because of course he can't stop thinking about it. 

Besides Isak not having the nerve, evenings when they don't all gather upstairs are usually because they're all too fucking tired. Things begin to happen very, very quickly at the diner - their opening day is looming, and every day is jammed. 

The new exterior sign is hung, the letters all red and blue neon. The restaurant’s website goes live, as does the Instagram account, so the marketing is in full swing. Every member of the staff starts promoting it on their own social media, trying to get word of mouth going. They’re planning a soft opening two days before the official one, with just family and friends. Nobody has any idea what to expect when they open, really, they’re just hoping for the best, and having people who love them do a test run of the food and the atmosphere will definitely help.

(When Isak sends a massive text to all of his friends about the soft opening, most of their responses are along the lines of _’we’ll finally get to see you again, yay!’_ and he has to reply back to them all with apologies about how busy he’s been. Eskild in particular gives him quite a bit of grief, grumbling that he only knows Isak still lives with them by the dirty coffee cup he leaves in the sink every morning.) 

Inside, the counter and stools are installed, and the new tabletops and booths are put in as well, all in a few very loud, whirlwind days. Then the new flooring has to be completed, and finally, _finally,_ all of the interior construction is finished. The day after that comes the tinkering with the speaker system, which they’ve all been waiting rather impatiently to be done so they can have the jukebox playing while they work. 

The juke will hold 10 song selections in its queue, so every half hour or so, one of them has to run over to add more to the list. The Beatles and Elvis are the most popular, naturally (mostly because there are more of their songs than anyone else’s) and it becomes a completely normal thing for the staff to suddenly stop what they’re doing to break into a loud singalong of the chorus of whatever song happens to be playing. This is invariably followed by several seconds of giggling from various corners of the restaurant before they all go back to whatever they’d been working on.

The new menus arrive, slick and shiny and bursting with color, thanks to Even’s seemingly endless creativity. Now that all of the offered dishes have been finalized, the wait staff sets themselves to memorizing every bit of it. Isak in particular takes pride in knowing it inside and out, every ingredient in every single item. He’ll often follow Chris around quizzing her, and she _hates_ him for it, her face burning as he needles her with questions. 

“How many grams of steak come on the Philly Cheese? Can they leave the onions out of the salsa for the nachos? Name every single thing on the Cobb salad, go!”

After two days of this, Chris finally gets fed up and retorts, “Yeah? I hope every single customer you ever have orders a milkshake, because we all know you _suck_ at making them.”

And Isak just slinks away, because she’s absolutely right. Try as he might, he just cannot master the stupid shake machine. Every time he tries, he ends up with milk and ice cream and whatever added flavoring all over him - he’s stained at least four t-shirts already. 

Once, after just giving up and embracing his failure, he licks the spattered chocolate syrup off his arm and then looks up to see Even standing there, mouth slightly open and eyes wide, holding out a fresh shirt. “Sorry!” Even blurts out, his face going bright red as he shoves the shirt at Isak. “Sorry, just-- here. It’s mine.”

Seeing as Even is clearly still _wearing_ a shirt, Isak doesn’t know what to say to this, and he’s definitely confused by how embarrassed Even is about it. He just stares at Even, making no move to take the shirt from him, until Even sighs and says, “I know you’ve been having trouble so I brought this one down from my apartment earlier. I was just waiting for you to ruin your shirt today to give it to you.”

 _Oh._ Now Isak’s cheeks are flushed too, and he pulls the t-shirt from Even’s fingers with a quiet word of thanks. Even abruptly turns on his heel and walks away, leaving Isak staring after him, wondering what the fuck that had been about, but his thoughts are interrupted by a snort from Chris, who has apparently seen the whole thing.

“You two need to get a fucking room already,” she tells him, and Isak’s face goes even redder.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

“I’m telling you, he was already walking over with it and then he saw you lick your arm and he almost tripped.”

Isak just stares at her. Is _that_ why Even had been so flustered?

She gives him a solemn nod, her mouth slowly widening into a grin. “It was pretty hot. I’d keep doing it when he’s around if I were you.”

“Oh my God,” Isak snaps, and stalks off to the bathroom to change. Into _Even’s shirt._

And he definitely doesn’t spend the rest of the day trying to discreetly pull it up over his nose to sniff the fabric. Nope.

\---------

With eight days left, they’re all tired and anxious about every little thing, but still excited, of course. Most of the staff is handling the balance fairly well, but Isak is pretty worse for wear, and Even... well, Even is...

The thing is, he’s been bursting with imagination and positivity ever since Isak met him, but he’s always been quite a calm presence, too. Now, though, he’s buzzing all the time, so hyped up for the opening that it’s actually a little alarming. After a couple of days of this, Isak starts to notice Yousef watching Even very carefully, always wearing a worried frown. 

One evening just before they all go home, he sees Yousef pulling Even very gently by the arm into the office, his expression apprehensive but his jaw quite set. Isak’s eyes lock with Yousef’s as he’s closing the door behind them, and Isak spends the rest of the night wondering what in the world happened in there.

He finds out the very next morning. Well, sort of.

“Even’s not feeling well,” Yousef tells him as he’s yawning over his coffee. “He’s upstairs for the day.”

Isak stares at him blankly. “There’s still so much to do, though.”

“I know. Sana and her father will be here in a little while to help. I’m going to be in the kitchen with Mags and Martin today.”

He can’t pinpoint Yousef’s mood. It seems to be an equal mix of regretful and relieved, which makes no sense at all. And it doesn’t help that Yousef is staring very hard at him, almost as if he’s trying to tell Isak something without words.

But all he says is, “Okay,” and finishes his coffee with one gulp before getting up to wash the mug. Even not being around will suck for sure, but it’ll be nice to see Sana again.

Both she and her father are extremely impressed with the way the diner looks - they spend almost half an hour wandering around the whole place, quietly exclaiming over even the smallest of changes. When Isak asks her teasingly why she hasn’t been by sooner, she glares in the direction of the kitchen. “ _That one_ hasn’t let me,” she replies, obviously meaning Yousef. “He’s been keeping everything a big mystery.”

“Wait, so you weren’t going to be able to see it until the soft opening?”

She shakes her head. “When Even’s feeling better I’m going to thank him.”

At this Isak’s smile fades, and he lowers his voice to ask, “What’s going on with him, do you know?”

Sana presses her lips together, again glancing toward the kitchen. Isak follows her gaze; he can see Yousef through the window with his back to them, obviously doing something with the grill. “It’s not my place to tell you,” she says at last, and the finality in her tone is very clear to Isak. He almost wants to snap at her for it, but keeps his mouth shut.

Despite Even not being there, it’s a good and productive day. During the morning they get all of the tables dressed with salt and pepper shakers, plus ketchup and hot sauce and caddies of sweetener, and fully stock the server stations at either end of the dining room. Sana’s father spends most of the day in the kitchen, and Isak hears his warm laughter mixing with Yousef’s what seems like every five minutes. 

Sana herself is a different story. She’s much tougher than Yousef as front house manager, and spends the afternoon testing all of them on the menu, on table numbers, on how to write up their order tickets. Viktor tells her tentatively that, as he’s suggested to Yousef and Even, it would be much more efficient to have a computer system instead of handwritten tickets, and she fixes him with a steady glare that Isak knows well. “Do you have an extra forty thousand kroner lying around to help us pay for it?” she asks coldly, and Viktor immediately shuts up. Chris and Isak exchange amused looks and both have to bite the inside of their cheeks to keep from laughing. They know better than to cross Sana about such things.

But she surprises them by softening at once and telling Viktor kindly that they’ve discussed putting in a computer ordering system in the future, if things go well. This is the first any of them have heard about it and there’s a small cheer, which makes Sana laugh. “Come on, you know how terrible my handwriting is!” Chris says, and catches Isak with a wink.

It’s wonderful spending the day with Sana; Isak hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her, and her presence pushes Even’s absence into the back of his mind. However, this doesn’t stop him from immediately feeling anxious when he sees her at the diner again the next morning. “Is Even still sick?” he asks, in lieu of a hello, and she looks up at him with a frown.

“He won’t be here today either,” she replies, and it takes Isak a moment to realize that she hadn’t answered his question with a simple yes or no.

He’s definitely worried now. They only have a few days until opening, and while things look mostly ready on the surface, none of them really _feel_ ready. Not having one of their trusted leaders to guide them isn’t helping, either.

Isak tries to stay positive, but he’s too drained to put much effort into it. He spends most of the day rolling what feels like thousands of forks, knives, and spoons into napkins and stores them in large bins, ready to go. It’s tedious, but at least he gets to sit alone with his thoughts. He knows now that Even doesn’t just have the flu or something, or they would have been told as much. There’s something else going on here.

He manages to wait until the end of the day to say anything about it. However, just as he’s approaching Yousef to ask if he knows whether Even will be back tomorrow, Yousef gives him a tired smile and says, “I was just going to come and get you. Come in here for a minute.” 

He leads Isak into the office and quietly closes the door. It’s a very small room, not all that comfortable for two people, and Isak is already uneasy, so he hopes whatever this is won’t take long.

“I talked to Even a little while ago, and--”

“You went up to see him?” Isak interrupts. “How is he?”

“No, we texted,” Yousef says patiently. “He asked me to tell you what’s going on. He’s not sick, exactly.” Yousef pauses, appearing to decide just how to say this, and Isak feels something clawing at his insides as he waits. 

“Even’s bipolar. All the stress and excitement of the past couple of weeks was a little too much for him, and he just needs to rest. I was pretty sure this was going to happen, to be honest.”

Isak just nods, his heart pounding. “Does Mags know?” he asks quietly.

Yousef looks surprised for a second before giving him a soft smile. “Yes, he does. Even told me that he told him a while ago, and he said you’d most likely know the basics because of Magnus’s mother. That’s part of why he wanted you to know the truth.”

 _What’s the other part?_ Isak wants to ask, but he knows it’s not appropriate. He can sort of guess, anyway, and his heart rate speeds up even more at the thought. “Is he-- I mean did he have--”

“No, it wasn’t a complete episode. I saw it coming and we talked, and he agreed to speak to his doctor, who told him to just forget about everything happening down here for a few days. Even didn’t like it, but he knew he didn’t really have a choice.”

“And how is he now?”

Yousef tilts his head from side to side, thinking. “He says he feels better, but I’ve known him for a long time. I think he still needs a day or so.”

“Then what if he tries to come back to work too soon?” Isak asks stubbornly, catching on to all of this faster than Yousef probably expects, judging by the look he gets. 

“We’ll deal with that if it happens,” Yousef says, and Isak can tell he’s trying to stay calm. “You can text him yourself if you want.”

“Can’t I just go up and see him?”

“He doesn’t like visitors when he’s down. Otherwise I would have been up there ten times already.”

Isak opens his mouth to retort, and Yousef can clearly sense it coming, because he lays a gentle hand on Isak’s arm and says, “Just text him. Let him know you care. And he’s asked Mags and I to not tell anyone else on the staff yet, so please respect that.”

“Of course,” Isak mumbles. His fingers are already itching to pull out his phone. “Is that all?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound rude.

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t tell you everything sooner, but I had to get his permission first.”

“No, I get that, it’s okay. Thanks.” Isak’s left hand fumbles for the doorknob while his right slips into his back pocket for his phone, and he can barely type a single word without making a mistake.

_**To Even:** Yousef told me. Is it okay if I come up and see you?_

He tries to tell himself that if Even says no, it’s not personal. In truth, he’s not fully sure why he asked, given what Yousef had said. 

He’s chewing at his lip while he waits for Even’s reply, and after three full minutes he’s starting to worry that Even is asleep, and is on the verge of just barging upstairs anyway. But then his phone pings at last. 

_**From Even:** Door’s unlocked. Don’t tell him you’re coming or he’ll want to come too._

Isak takes just enough of a pause to make sure Yousef is occupied before bolting for the stairs.

When he reaches the door to the apartment, the full weight of Even’s text hits him. Even has known Yousef for at least six years, maybe more, but hasn’t allowed him up here to see him in this state. He’s known Isak for barely a month, yet here Isak is. 

The depth of Even’s trust in him is almost overwhelming. Isak doesn’t feel at all like he’s earned it yet, so he’d better do that now.

Even had said the door wasn’t locked, but he gives it a gentle warning knock before slowly opening it to peek inside. The shades are drawn and the only light is coming from the TV, so the apartment is much darker than Isak is used to seeing it. Still, he can make out Even right away, curled up on the sofa wearing more layers than Isak has ever seen him in, hoodie drawn up over his head. He’s looking directly at Isak, which is a good sign, Isak thinks.

The atmosphere in the room isn’t heavy, or even particularly negative. It’s just quiet. The volume on the TV is so low that Isak can hardly hear it at all, and Even’s breathing is steady and calm.

Isak had run up here so quickly that he hadn’t had a chance to form any clear expectations about what he’d find, but he knows it wasn’t this. He can handle this just fine, no matter how uncertain he is about how much he deserves to be here.

“Hey,” he says softly, taking a few steps inside and closing the door behind him.

“Hi.” 

“Everyone really misses you. We’re looking forward to seeing you back when you’re ready.”

Isak is pretty sure a small smile crosses Even’s face at that, but he’s too far away to really tell, so he moves nearer to the sofa. “Yeah, Sana and her pappa have been in to help, and it’s been great having them there. Not as good as having you, but still.”

Yes, he’s definitely smiling, but it’s a shadow of his usual sunny one. Still makes Isak’s knees go weak, though. “Yousef didn’t burn down my kitchen yet, did he?”

“Thought it was our kitchen,” Isak says lightly, perching on the arm of the sofa. He’s ready to spring up at any moment if Even doesn’t want him this close. “No, everything’s fine.” 

“That’s good.” Even presses the mute button on the TV remote (not that the sound was loud enough to disturb Isak anyway) and then inhales deeply through his nose and tips his head back, gazing at Isak through half-closed eyes. “I’m okay. I just needed to rest. Sleep.”

“I’m not surprised, with how hard you’ve been working. Running yourself ragged just to...” He trails off, remembering that Yousef had said Even’s been advised not to think about the diner, so Isak really should change the subject. “Do you want anything? You know I can’t cook, but I can make tea. Sort of.”

This earns him another smile, and it’s a bit brighter this time. “No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.” He breathes deep again, and lets it out slowly, still just staring at Isak like he never has before - it’s intense yet comforting, vulnerable and hopeful and bashful and challenging all at the same time. Isak can’t look away. 

“I’m just glad you’re not mad at me,” Even says after a moment, and his voice is much smaller, somehow. 

“Why would I be mad? It’s not like you could help it. Nobody’s mad, Even. We just want you to feel better.”

“Yousef’s not mad?” Even whispers, and Isak forgets about workplace boundaries, about what’s fucking _proper,_ and he slides off the arm of the sofa onto the cushion beside Even, taking Even’s hand between both of his own.

“No one is mad,” Isak tells him firmly. “I promise. But I do think you should let him come up here,” he adds, “Especially since you let me up.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“He wants to see you, too.”

“I wanted to see _you,_ ” Even repeats, and squeezes Isak’s fingers.

It’s a few simple words that steal the breath right out of Isak’s lungs, one gentle touch that makes him tremble all over. He blinks slowly, one corner of his mouth lifting in a nervous half-smile. “I wanted to see you, too,” he says softly. “And not just to see if you’re doing okay.”

As soon as the words have left his mouth Isak wants to snatch them back. Taking his hand had been one thing, but saying _that..._ He shakes his head, cursing under his breath, and mumbles, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

“You’re fine,” Even says. “It’s fine. Better than fine.”

Isak could kiss him then and there. He’s never wanted anything more in his entire life. “I-- I can stay for a while, if you want?” he asks, his voice shaking very slightly. “Hang out?”

Even nods and squeezes his hands again, brushing his thumb across the back of one. “I’d love that. Um, we could watch...” He gestures toward his DVD collection with his free hand, smiling shyly at Isak and then chuckling. “Well, whatever you want.”

“Got it.” Isak reluctantly extracts his hands from Even’s grip and gets up, pulling _American Graffiti_ from the shelf, hardly needing to look for it. After he inserts it into the DVD player, he sits back down on the sofa, closer to Even than he had been before. 

And as Even lifts the remote to turn the volume back up, his other hand finds Isak’s again. Their fingers slide together easily, and Isak looks down at them, then up at Even, whose smile is much nearer to its usual warmth now. 

As the opening titles appear on the screen, a loud, familiar song begins playing on the soundtrack: “Rock Around the Clock”. They play it almost every day downstairs and Isak knows the lyrics by heart at this point. It almost pulls his attention away from Even’s face. Almost.

He hasn’t been prepared for most of what’s happened tonight, and he’s definitely not prepared for both of them to start singing along to the song at the exact same time. “Fuck!” Isak says, and Even bursts out laughing, sounding like his old self again. 

As the song fades out, he draws Isak’s hand up to his chest, drops his head onto Isak’s shoulder, and says softly, “I hope you don’t get too bored.”

“Never,” Isak whispers, and has to restrain himself from kissing the top of Even’s head. 

Some other time. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously there is A TON of stuff that goes into the opening of a new restaurant; I’ve only glossed over things here because including everything would be incredibly boring and would make the fic three times as long. Also, Even’s mental illness will not come into play more than it did here in later chapters. There may be small mentions of it, but no more than that.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dahlstrom.tumblr.com)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You really are totally gone for him, aren't you? I should go tell him and get this ball rolling, for fuck’s sake.”
> 
> “ _You,_ ” Isak seethes, “will go sit back down with Linn and Noora.” He plucks Eskild's glass from his fingers and steps away from him, rattling the ice cubes. “And I’ll bring you another of these. Your, what, fifth one?”
> 
> Eskild smiles sweetly at him. “I’m telling you, we're coming here every single week. I could get used to ordering you around, making you fetch me cherry Cokes and shit.” He starts back to his booth but spins toward Isak after only a couple of steps to add loudly, “Extra cherries, please, _garçon!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this chapter contains a scene I’ve wanted to include in a fic for basically YEARS, through multiple fandoms, and I can’t believe I finally got the chance to do it :) **Couple of warnings:** Multiple mentions of food, as well as a very very mildly graphic injury, including reference to blood.

_**Fredag 23:47** _

_**From Yousef:** Even said the two of you talked and that he’ll be in tomorrow. So whatever you said or did, thanks. _

_**To Yousef:** No problem_

_**From Yousef:** You got skillz yo_

_**To Yousef:** Something like that :)_

\---------

Isak is more nervous to go into work the next morning than he’s been in weeks. How will Even behave around him? How _should_ they behave? 

He’s not going to jump to any conclusions about where they stand. It certainly hadn’t been discussed last night. They’d just watched the movie, and then half of another one before Even fell asleep on Isak’s shoulder for a few minutes, jolted himself awake, muttered an adorably sleepy apology and yawned as he thanked Isak for the company, and was hardly able to hold himself upright as he walked him to the door. Isak hadn’t dared hope for anything when they said goodbye, given how tired Even had been, but just before he’d stepped out, Even had taken his hand for a long moment, smiling warmly at him (his eyes half-closed with exhaustion). It had taken every bit of Isak’s willpower not to hug him, or lift their hands to press a kiss to the back of Even’s. 

A large part of him hopes they’ll both be too busy today to deal with talking about it. Of course he _wants_ to, but he’s not about to add to Even’s stress levels. It’ll happen when it happens. 

In actuality, aside from Even giving him a few more smiles and lingering looks than usual, they don’t get to speak about anything besides work at all for the next _two and a half_ days, right up until the soft opening on Sunday evening. Everyone is running around like crazy making sure every last thing is perfect; it doesn’t matter that only friends and family will be here tonight. The tension is through the roof and they’re all speaking quite shortly to each other, almost snapping sometimes. Even Yousef, who has been the epitome of cool, calm, and collected through this entire process, seems to be wearing thin. 

But then, just a few minutes before they’re set to open the doors and allow in those they’ve invited, Even’s voice comes over the PA system from the kitchen microphone, deep and soothing. “Could everyone please join me in here? Just for a second. There’s a few things I want to say.”

Quietly, the staff gathers in the kitchen, nervousness etched on every face. The wait staff is dressed identically in their simple “uniform” of white t-shirts, jeans, and black Converse sneakers; Magnus, Martin, and Even are in their cook’s whites. Through his jitters, Isak can’t help feeling quite proud of Mags in that white coat, and he also has to smile a little at the bandana he’s tied around his forehead, just like Even has been wearing for weeks. Such a good little protégé.

“Hello,” Even says calmly, once they’re all assembled. “I just want to take a minute to truly, sincerely thank all of you for the hard work you’ve done. I never thought I’d be able to have my own restaurant so soon, and you’ve all made it possible. _You_ got us here. We’re all standing here together, as a team, in this beautiful place we’ve made with our own hands. I had this picture in my head, so I drew it, literally drew it with pencil and paper, and you guys brought it to life for me. And I...” He lays a hand on his heart, smiling around at each of them, and his eyes stay on Isak for just a few seconds longer than anyone else. “I could not be more proud. I could not have asked for a better group of people to share this with. So thank you.”

Half of them are sniffling back tears by the time Even finishes, and the rest aren’t far off. “Fuck, Even, seriously?” Yousef mumbles, wiping his eyes, and they all snicker softly. 

“Like you didn’t see this coming,” Even says, poker-faced, and slings an arm around Yousef’s neck to pull him close. Yousef doesn’t let him stop there, throwing both arms around him in a bearhug - actually lifting him off the ground for a second - and everyone breaks into laughter and applause. It sets off a chain reaction; they _all_ start hugging each other, murmuring their own congratulations and thanks. 

Somehow, it doesn’t quite register in Isak’s brain that this course of action means that he and Even will hug at some point... until that point comes, and they both pause for a fraction of a second, each beaming with their arms open, just as they’ve greeted the rest of their co-workers. Isak just freezes, swallowing hard, and Even’s cheerful grin relaxes into a soft, tender smile as he folds Isak into his arms, actually cradling him a little against his chest. 

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Even whispers, right into his ear, and Isak closes his eyes. “I mean it. If you hadn't been here I’d probably still be hiding upstairs, unable to face it.”

“I really doubt that,” Isak says, his voice thick and the words half-buried in Even’s shoulder. Even is the absolute _worst_ for doing this to him right now, the fucking worst. He's got to diffuse this somehow, so he leans back so he can see Even’s face and gives him a playful sock on the jaw with a softly-closed fist. “What did they say back in the 50s? ‘Attaboy,’ or something?”

And thankfully, Even doesn't take it as an insult and just bursts out laughing, rubbing Isak's back with what Isak knows deep in his bones is real, honest affection. “See, this is what I mean! You get me. You just do.” He huffs out a little sigh and quickly darts his eyes around the group, and is apparently satisfied that no one is watching, because he tips his forehead against Isak's and murmurs, “Better than anyone ever has.”

Isak honestly doesn't know what might have happened next - probably him throwing caution to the wind and kissing Even fiercely right on the mouth in front of everyone - if Yousef hadn't suddenly called, “Hey! It's 18:30, time to do this thing. Somebody go load up the juke!”

\---------

The soft opening is, in a word, a _smash._ Despite the fact that they’ve gone a bit overboard with invitations and the place is nearly full to capacity, despite Isak getting his first taste of real panic on the job when he realizes he has to actually take care of all of them, despite the brief period of near-chaos in the kitchen when the rail is holding eleven order tickets at once and Magnus nearly hyperventilates from the pressure - they pull it off. They really do.

Every last one of their guests has a ball. The jukebox isn’t silent for a second all night and people are literally dancing in the aisles. Compliments are pouring in from all sides, about everything - the food most of all, of course. Nearly every item on the menu is ordered at some point during the evening, and not a single plate is sent back to the kitchen. It’s perfect.

(When Chris sets Mahdi’s platter of chicken and waffles in front of him, he nearly starts crying with joy. Isak, Jonas, and Eva get pictures of it from various angles and upload them to Instagram all at the same time.) 

Later, Even finally emerges from the kitchen to see everyone and Isak notices him making a beeline for Sana’s parents, who fawn over him, making him blush. Then he goes to the couple Yousef had introduced to the wait staff as Even’s own parents and hugs them both very tightly. Isak half-wishes he had the guts to saunter over and join them. 

As if Even could actually _hear_ this thought, his eyes meet Isak’s across the dining room, and his already wide smile grows even wider as he raises his hand in a wave. Isak’s face flushes and he can only wave back briefly before he has to turn away, certain that Even knows exactly what’s going through his mind right now.

Thankfully, he’s distracted by Eskild’s sudden appearance. “Isaaaaak,” he drawls, draping an arm around Isak’s shoulder and slowly revolving him back toward Even. He’s holding a glass of cherry Coke in his other hand and gestures at Even with it. “So... that’s the mystery chef who’s stolen your heart, hmm?”

“Yes,” Isak grumbles, his cheeks turning red again. “Why?”

“Just wanted to make sure I got to see him. And I have to say, I completely understand why you want to be here all day, every day. _Look_ at him.” Eskild hums loudly, drawing it out in a way that would sound contemplative to most people, but combined with the way his eyes are sweeping up and down Even’s body, it’s pretty clear to Isak what he’s really thinking. “Can I meet him?”

“Fuck no. I’m not introducing you after that _moan_ you just did.”

“It was an appreciative sigh, thank you very much. And I’m not going to hit on him or anything. He’s yours.”

Isak wants to say something along the lines of “He’s not mine _yet,_ ” but he’s a little afraid that might jinx it. Instead he replies, “And it's not ‘all day, every day’. I still go to class.”

“And then you come right over here, so whatever, close enough.”

Isak knows it’s sort of risky to just be standing there staring over at Even again, but he appears deep in conversation with Sana’s brother and a couple of their other friends. Just then Elias says something that makes their whole group burst into loud laughter, and Isak can hear Even’s ringing above them all. He forgets about Eskild entirely, just gazing at Even's incredible smile, and doesn't realize he's let out a little _appreciative sigh_ of his own until Eskild snickers. 

“You really are totally gone for him, aren't you? I should go tell him and get this ball rolling, for fuck’s sake.”

“ _You,_ ” Isak seethes, “will go sit back down with Linn and Noora.” He plucks Eskild's glass from his fingers and steps away from him, rattling the ice cubes. “And I’ll bring you another of these. Your, what, fifth one?”

Eskild smiles sweetly at him. “I’m telling you, we're coming here every single week. I could get used to ordering you around, making you fetch me cherry Cokes and shit.” He starts back to his booth but spins toward Isak after only a couple of steps to add loudly, “Extra cherries, please, _garçon!_ ”

\---------

They’re all still on such a high the next day that it’s a while before any of them actually do any work, Yousef and Even included. Sitting around reliving the highlights of the previous night is much more appealing. 

“Chris, what the hell is this picture you put on the diner’s Insta?” Even asks at one point, staring down at his phone with an incredulous smile. 

Isak leans over to look - of course he hadn’t _planned_ to sit beside Even, it just turned out that way - and lets out a snort of laughter. “Poor Mahdi.”

“Aw, you didn’t,” Magnus says to Chris, clicking his tongue. “He was already so embarrassed that Isak _and_ Jonas _and_ Eva uploaded it.”

By now everyone else has pulled out their phones to check, too, and their reactions range from cackles to coos. “Look, he was happy!” Chris exclaims in her own defense. “It was a beautiful moment and we made it happen. I had to post it.”

“I’m going to regret giving you the password, aren’t I?” Even asks tiredly. 

“You have enough on your plate, just shut up,” Chris replies. “We can both upload stuff.”

“I’d change the password if I were you,” Isak tells Even in a stage whisper, smirking at Chris when she makes a face at him. But then Even nudges his shoulder and grins at him, which has its usual effect, and Isak just slumps there like a pile of mush for the next several minutes, leaning most of his weight into Even’s side. 

Since last night had gone so well with only a bare minimum of problems, none of them really feel the need to make any tweaks, but there are a few things they need to take care of. The place needs a good cleaning, for one thing, which Yousef informs the wait staff is their task for the day. Even tells Mags and Martin that they need to check their stock and see if they’re in danger of running out of anything before the next food order comes in on Thursday. They agree and head for the kitchen, and Even pats Isak’s knee under the table with a soft sigh before sliding out of the booth himself.

Badly startled, Isak tries to straighten his posture in time, because he really _had_ been almost entirely propped up by Even’s shoulder. Only Chris appears to notice, and she stares at him while sliding her tea spoon in her mouth in a horribly familiar way. Isak clenches his jaw and shakes his head very slowly at her. _Don’t you dare._

\---------

In retrospect, they all really should have seen it coming. Things can only go well for so long before the universe has to even itself out and throw a little bit of disaster at you. 

The thing is - they’re busy. Right out of the gate. Word of mouth has been excellent, people are excited, and it should be a good thing, right? They handle it okay at first; the grand opening on Tuesday is hectic, as are Wednesday and Thursday, but they get through it, and then comes Friday. Isak, Magnus, and Chris had all quietly convinced each other that since the diner doesn’t serve alcohol, Fridays couldn’t possibly be a big deal. Nobody wants to start their weekend with a meal at a place with only non-alcoholic beer available. 

They couldn’t be more wrong.

They’re turning tables as quickly as they can; no sooner has one been vacated and cleared off than a new group is seated, hungry and maybe a little irritated by their wait. But it’s cool, people understand, and the wait staff does their very best to keep smiling, keep everybody happy and entertained and eating. The guys in the kitchen are barely able to keep their heads above water, but Even is keeping them afloat. And then it all starts to crumble. 

First Malin mixes up an order, then Isak drops a tray loaded with eight full glasses to deliver to two different tables and a customer very nearly slips in the puddle of ice and various liquids. Shortly after that, as if Isak’s clumsiness has wafted right into the kitchen, Martin crashes into Magnus and they both drop the plates they’d been about to set in the window, so the food on them has to be re-made. This puts them more behind than they already were, and finally Even gets on the PA to call Yousef into the kitchen, because he needs Yousef to do what he does best and expo for them - keep track of the orders so Even can concentrate on helping Mags and Martin cook. This means the rest of the wait staff has to take over Yousef’s tables when they’re close to being overwhelmed already. 

Completely fed up, Viktor has to shut himself in the walk-in to yell for a minute and release his frustration. While he’s in there, one of his tables stops Chris to ask for about ten different things, putting _her_ in the weeds, and then _she_ has to follow him to the walk-in to scream. Meanwhile, Yousef and Even come very close to shouting at each other, and Isak seriously considers just giving up and going home.

But somehow, _somehow,_ they all manage to make it through the night unscathed. It starts to slow down around ten o’clock and they can all breathe. Apologies are given, hugs are shared. And hey, the money is kind of pouring in, which might be a shallow comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

They’re operating with shorter hours for these first couple of weeks, just until they can figure out how to handle everything, so the kitchen closes at 22:30. Isak is down to only two tables by then, and he has time to peek around the kitchen doorway to see how the guys are doing. It’s just Even in there now - Martin has escaped to tackle the mountain of dirty dishes and Magnus is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey,” he says softly, and based on what he’s seen tonight he’s braced for any sort of reaction. However, Even just gives him an exhausted smile.

“Hey, yourself.” He’d taken off his chef’s coat hours ago and is standing there in only baggy khakis and a thin gray t-shirt that’s damp with sweat. “Gonna make it?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

Even waves a hand and goes back to cleaning the grill. His hair is wet too, hanging in his eyes in spite of his blue bandana. “Attaboy, right?” he says, throwing Isak a wink, and they grin at each other. 

“Can I steal a beer from upstairs after we’re done?” Isak asks. “If I can even make it up the stairs, I mean. I just want to drink it on the way home.”

“You can stay for a while if you want,” Even replies, now frowning very slightly. “Or are you sick of my face tonight?”

“See, I didn’t want to say anything, but I’m not going to lie to you...”

Even chuckles. “I thought so. I’ll bring one down for you. Just wait till you’re outside to open it, please. Halal.”

Nodding, Isak thanks him and gives him another quick smile before heading back to check on his remaining tables. His heart is pounding, because hanging out up at Even’s tonight would have almost certainly ended in Isak falling asleep there, alone with Even with the fucking bedroom only a few feet away, and the prospect of _that_ is just too much on top of everything else he’s had to deal with during this whole crazy night. 

\---------

So yeah, the first week or so is a mess, and just about all of them consider quitting at least once or twice, but they’re tough. Like Even had reminded them just before the soft opening, they’ve built something here, and a good crew abandons neither their captain nor their ship. 

By the middle of week three, it’s all smooth sailing again. They’re still doing great business, but the opening rush has cooled off, to everyone’s relief. Yousef has been able to actually make a schedule, allowing people to have days off again instead of all eight of them running around the place every day and getting on each other’s nerves. Malin, Viktor, and Chris all know they can handle nine or ten tables at once, and not to be outdone, Isak assures Yousef that he can as well, so only two of them are needed each day. They’re planning to start opening the diner at 11:00 instead of 16:00 in a couple of weeks, if all is still going well, so then they’ll add a third. 

Mags and Martin rotate days as well, but Even and Yousef both still work every day. “Part of the joy of being an owner,” Yousef tells Isak with a grim smile, and while of course Isak feels bad for them, he’s also a little dismayed that this means he and Even will never have a day off together, at least not for a while.

Because things are definitely progressing there, slowly but oh so surely. If Isak leaves the kitchen area _without_ a smile from Even, it’s because Even is dealing with at least eight things at once, and no less. 

When all of the plates are ready for a single table, one of the kitchen guys will call the server to the kitchen over the PA system. They have fun with it, usually speaking English and sometimes adding a cute little message. Every time Even calls Isak to pick up, no matter if it’s a packed weekend night or a lazy Tuesday, there’s a tenderness in his voice that simply doesn’t exist for anyone else, not even for his best friend. And without fail, Isak’s knees turn to jelly regardless of where he is or what he’s doing - one time he’s in the middle of taking a table’s order and actually smiles and blushes at the sound of Even calling his name so sweetly, for the whole restaurant to hear. Those customers give him knowing looks, and tip him quite generously, too. 

Then there’s the fact that Even keeps lending him shirts after the shake machine attacks him, and Isak maybe _possibly_ isn’t bothering to try to get better at the damn thing. He’s pretty sure it’s actually sentient and has some sort of personal vendetta against him anyway. Once, Malin asks him quite innocently why he doesn’t just bring an extra shirt of his own, and Chris snorts so loudly that half the customers in the place stare at her. 

(Eventually, Isak has at least eight of Even’s shirts and just starts wearing them as if they’re his own. They’re plain white t-shirts that come in a pack of 10, nothing special, and he doubts Even notices or cares, but _Isak_ knows. It doesn’t matter how many times they’re washed - Even’s scent still clings to the fabric.)

And after the total exhaustion of the first few weeks wears off, the staff resumes hanging out together up in Even’s apartment instead of going straight home to collapse. Now that Magnus and Martin really know what they’re doing, Even usually leaves the diner in their capable hands for the dinner shift on weekdays, and he welcomes visitors after closing. Isak isn’t quite to the point yet of being brave enough to go upstairs by himself; he always has at least one of the others along as a buffer. Whenever Even opens his door to see Isak standing there with one of his co-workers at his side, their eyes will meet for just a moment, and the mild disappointment in Even’s gets harder and harder to bear. 

One Wednesday night about six weeks after opening, Isak desperately wants both a beer and to see Even after his shift. He’s closing with Malin and she’s cranky, but no matter how much he tries to persuade her, she says she just wants to go home. 

It's so stupid that he feels like he needs a _chaperone._ What is he waiting for, anyway? The signals are all there. Even is being so patient, and Isak honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. What is he afraid of at this point?

_**To Even:** Want company for a while? Need alcohol. Malin’s bailing but I could come up._

_**From Even:** Absolutely :) I must be psychic because I bought your favorite yesterday._

_**To Even:** My hero._

An hour later, he’s knocking on Even’s door with his heart racing. Even opens it wearing an easy grin and holding up a bottle of beer, ice-cold and just opened, and in an instant Isak’s nerves are at least half-gone. He sighs gratefully, accepts the bottle with his eyebrows raised in thanks, and takes a long drink, then murmurs, “Exactly what you want to see at the end of a long day.”

Isak honestly doesn’t know if he means the beer or Even himself, and judging by Even’s adorable little smile, he doesn’t either.

“Come on in,” Even says softly, gesturing to him with his own beer bottle before walking toward the sofa. “Do you work tomorrow?”

Isak closes the door behind him and slips off his shoes. “No, but I have class in the morning. So I can’t stay long.” That’s part of why he’s allowing himself to do this tonight. He has to be responsible.

“Ah,” Even replies, settling on the sofa with his arm laying across the back, a clear invitation for Isak to sit beside him. “And you said Malin was cranky... was it a bad night?”

“She just had some jerks at a couple tables,” Isak says, shrugging. “So she got grumpy. And she was making me grumpy. And we were making _Yousef_ grumpy, I think.” He says this last bit as he’s flopping down next to Even and smiles a little as he raises his beer to his lips. Even’s fingers drop to his shoulder for a second, squeezing it briefly, but move away before either of them can get used to it. “Yeah, by the time we were locking up he was barely speaking to either of us.”

“He needs a break,” Even mumbles. “I should talk to Sana, see if she can come in and cover for a few days.”

“If he gets some time off, don’t you think he’d like to spend it _with_ her?” Isak asks, startled by his own boldness. “I mean, I think we can handle it. At least during the week.”

Even smiles. “You’re probably right. We’ve got the place running like a pretty well-oiled machine now.” 

“Yeah, we really kind of do, don’t we?”

“Do you...” Even laughs lightly, shaking his head at himself. “This is going to sound like an obvious question, but... you like it here, right? Working here?”

Isak has to gape at him for a few seconds before breaking into a grin. “Of course I do. It’s-- I mean, I’m tired _all the time._ Like it only takes me five minutes to fall asleep now. It’s not a hard job, it’s just so physically tiring.” He stops for a moment to chuckle to himself. “I’m actually sort of surprised I ended up being good at it.”

“You _are_ good at it.” Even’s tone is very kind, but Isak can tell he’s stated is more as a fact than a compliment. Either way, he’s still giving Isak that wonderful smile reserved for him alone.

“So yeah, I’m pretty worn out, but it’s okay, because it’s really fun and I like all of you guys a lot.” He pauses for a moment, weighing the next words. “You know that thing you said before the opening about us having built it ourselves? How we did it together?” Even nods, blinking slowly, a gentle smile on his face, and Isak continues, “Yeah. That. That’s the part I like best. We’re like a little family. And I didn’t expect that at all when I started.”

“Mhm. Sometimes people come into your life, a group of people, and something just clicks between all of you and you just fit together. It happens with friends, obviously - like I know you’ve got your little squad going, and I’ve got mine - but when it’s people you work with, it’s better, in a way.”

Isak lets out a slow breath. “I’m always cool with finding more family replacements.” At this, Even gives him a questioning look, and Isak smirks at him. “You’ve obviously got a good relationship with your parents. I saw you with them at the opening.”

“And you don’t with yours?”

He takes a long swig of beer and shakes his head. “Nope. My mom’s got... issues, and my dad’s just an asshole. I left home when I was 16.”

Even’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. Where’d you go?”

“To where I live now. Same roommates for going on four years.”

“See? That’s another little family unit you’ve got.”

“At the rate I’m going, I’ll have them all over Oslo. Like those dicks who travel a lot for work and have kids in cities all over the world and none of them know about each other.”

Even snorts (although Isak doesn’t think it had been all that funny) and sips from his bottle, looking thoughtful. “Your one roommate - Eskild? He’s... quite the character.”

True to his word, Eskild has come in with Linn to eat at the diner at least once a week since they opened, and everyone knows them by now. Linn always orders the same thing - she’s fallen hard for the Reuben, just like Isak - but Eskild tries new menu items on each visit. Except for his choice of drink, that is. Isak knows to make him a cherry Coke before Eskild even asks for it.

“That he is,” Isak says quietly, rolling his eyes. “Yes, he certainly is that.”

Even nods for several seconds, not looking at Isak, and he has an odd expression on his face, like he’s steeling himself for something. Isak is about to ask him what’s wrong when Even says, “Okay, I just have to ask you something, and I know it’s really inappropriate but it’s been on my mind and I just-- I gotta know.” He meets Isak’s eyes at last, his own very wide, and hardly gives Isak a chance to prepare himself mentally before asking, “Did you and he ever... I mean...”

It takes a moment for it to click, but when it does, Isak almost bursts out laughing. “No! Oh God, no. No, no no. I promise you.”

“Really?” Even is practically sighing with relief. “Okay, it was sort of hard to tell.”

“God, do we give off that vibe?” Isak asks, mildly horrified. 

“I don’t know! I just-- I wondered.”

“I mean, maybe we’ve kissed once or twice when we were really drunk, like just for fun? But other than that, no. Absolutely not.” It’s such a strange thing for Even to ask. No one else who’s encountered Isak and Eskild together has _ever_ asked if they’d been a thing in the past, or at least no one’s asked Isak. “Seriously though, do we act like we’ve...? Because I’m sort of baffled here.”

“No, I was honestly just wondering,” Even says, his tone strangely firm, as if he wants to change the subject as soon as possible. 

Isak does it for him - he quickly drains his beer and waves the empty bottle a little. “I’m gonna get one more if it’s okay.” Even nods, taking a sip from his own, and Isak gets up, stretching his tired limbs. “Just one more, though,” he adds, wanting to reassure Even that this awkwardness now hanging in the air will be gone soon.

Open cookbooks and recipes printed from the internet litter the kitchen counters, as they always do, and Isak lingers over a couple of them, fresh beer in hand, before coming back into the living room. “Looking for new stuff for the menu?” he asks as he settles back into his seat on the sofa. Even’s arm is still resting across the back, but his hand doesn’t drop to Isak’s shoulder this time. 

“Always,” Even replies with a small smile. 

“Find anything?”

“Maybe a couple. Just for specials, probably.”

“Do I get any hints?” Isak asks playfully, leaning his head against Even’s arm and smiling up at him. He’d really been expecting that shoulder touch when he sat back down; he’s got to initiate contact between them somehow.

It works like a charm - Even’s stiff posture relaxes at once, his expression softens, the corners of his mouth turn up into that sweet beautiful smile Isak’s never seen him give to anyone else... _Fuck, you need to just kiss him already,_ whispers that obnoxious little voice in his head, and Isak has no idea why he’s still ignoring it.

“New England clam chowder,” Even says softly, bending his arm toward Isak and beginning to stroke his hair very lightly. “It’s this thick, cream-based soup with clams and onions and potatoes and celery and lots of pepper. And maybe chili dogs? Hot dogs with cheese and chili on top? Beef ones, of course.” 

Even’s talking about food, stuff that sounds utterly delicious and under ordinary circumstances would probably make Isak’s stomach growl, but all Isak can focus on right now is that barely-there touch of Even’s fingers. It’s gentle and soothing, even when he tugs just a little at a small tangle. Isak’s eyes slip shut against his will. “That sounds amazing,” he murmurs, and lets out a soft sigh.

“I’ll make it for you,” Even whispers.

“Please do.” Isak’s second beer lays forgotten against his leg. He could fall asleep in moments. He’s not even disturbed by the feeling of Even shifting closer to him, or by Even’s chin now resting on top of his head. 

They’re both silent for a few minutes except for their breathing, and Isak actually feels himself falling over the edge into sleep when Even’s voice, low and warm, is suddenly right in his ear. “Do you really have to go to class in the morning?”

The harsh reality of the question jolts him awake. _Fuck._ “Yeah,” he says, hating the word, wishing he could just lie. He sits up reluctantly and has to bite his lip to hold in a soft whine at the look on Even’s face. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” Even replies, nodding, and then his mouth quirks in a regretful half-smile. “I guess I have to share you sometimes.”

The walk to the door is painful on multiple levels. Isak hands him the beer bottle he’d only taken a couple of sips from. “Sorry to waste it,” he says quietly.

“Your turn to buy next time,” Even says with a smile, and tips the bottle at him. “See you... Friday?”

Isak nods. “Gotta love Friday night shifts.”

“Oh, I’ll be there, so it won’t be that bad,” Even replies lightly, and Isak’s heart skips a beat. “Good night, Isak. Get home safe, you’re really tired.”

“I’ll text you when I get there.”

“I’ll be waiting for it.”

\---------

It’s rare for Isak and Jonas to have a day off together, so when one happens to fall they take full advantage of it. Sitting on his bedroom floor playing FIFA with his best friend, with absolutely no one demanding a single thing from him, is utter heaven. 

“Dude, you _suck,_ ” Jonas cackles, very close to besting him for the third match in a row. “You’re totally out of practice. And you were never that great to begin with anyway.”

Isak just grins at him, because not even being dragged is going to kill his good mood. 

“Aaaand... done.” Jonas tosses his controller to the floor and flips both middle fingers up. “Shall we continue with this complete and total ass-kicking or have you had enough?”

“I’m good for now, thanks. I’m hungry.”

“See, if you were one of the other guys whose ass I’d just beat, I’d make you bring me a snack too, but I’m going to take pity on you. What do you want?” Jonas gets to his feet, looking down at Isak expectantly.

“Listen, as much as I’d appreciate someone bringing _me_ food for once, I’ll just come with you. My butt hurts.”

“From the ass-kicking, right?” Jonas asks, walking backward so he can throw a finger gun at him. “Right?”

Isak rolls his eyes with pure affection, nodding. “Yes, exactly. Walk faster.”

There’s not much in the kitchen, but they make do with beer and potato chips. “If Even saw this, he’d be appalled,” Isak says, shovelling a whole handful into his mouth at once.

“At what you’re eating, or the way you’re eating it?” Jonas asks in a dry tone.

“Probably both,” Isak replies with his mouth full, bits of chip flying everywhere. 

They just eat in silence for a moment, but Isak can sense that Jonas is gearing up to say something; his leg is bouncing under the kitchen table and he’s fiddling with the pop-tab on his beer can, almost snapping it off. He’s about to just ask what’s up when Jonas clears his throat and says, in his best mock-casual voice, “So how’s that going?” He meets Isak’s blank eyes. “Work. Even.”

“Work, or Even?” Isak asks. “They’re two different things at this point.”

“Fine, Even.”

Groaning, Isak slumps back in his chair, holding his beer close to his chest. “I honestly don’t know anymore.”

“When the fuck are you going to just ask him out?” Jonas asks loudly, startling him. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“I don’t want to get shot down! That’s bad enough on its own, but when you _work_ with the person...”

“Jesus, are you kidding me? You really still think there’s a chance he’d say no?”

Isak stares at him, gesturing helplessly. “I mean, we work together...” he says, trailing off because he can’t think of a better excuse right now.

“Mags says you guys flirt so hard and so much that it’s just fucking embarrassing at this point.”

“ _Mags_ needs to shut the fuck up.”

Jonas just shakes his head. “Isak. Seriously. I’m there every week, I’ve seen it myself. And that’s just the stuff I _can_ see. Who knows what you two get up to out of view of the customers.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Isak says miserably, holding his head in his hands. “I really don’t. It’s just the work thing, I swear. If we go out and it doesn’t go well, things would be tense and gross. Plus, you know...” He grimaces, recalling Eskild’s lecture right after the interview, when Isak had been tearing through the flat on his ill-fated roller skating adventure. “He’s my boss. You can’t have sex with your boss.”

“You don’t have to have sex with him right off the bat,” Jonas tells him, ever patient. “You don’t just want him for that, I can tell. You _like_ him. You have for weeks.”

“I really do.”

“I know, dude. And he likes you too. So what the fuck are you guys doing about it?”

Isak has no answer for that. Zero. 

\---------

They’re busy. That’s what it is, they’re _busy._ They’re busy and exhausted all the time and they wouldn’t be able to give this thing between them the attention and care it deserves. Yes. That’s what Isak starts telling himself, and he’s so, _so_ close to believing it.

And if he wants someone to blame, he doesn’t have to look any further than Chris. His very favorite co-worker.

Because _Chris,_ somehow, has become some sort of social media legend. She uploads way more stuff to the diner’s Instagram than Even does - not just the foodie-type pictures of their kitchen’s beautifully prepared plates, but weird ones of customers in mid-bite with their faces scrunched up, random videos with their co-workers and people at her tables who are eager for 15 seconds of fame. And selfies, of course. Isak has lost count of the number of times Chris has pulled him over by his shirt to pose for a picture with her. He’s the least willing of all their co-workers though, so the others have it even worse than he does. _And people love it._ The account gains followers at a ridiculous rate, and customers start coming in _just_ to see Chris in person. It’s _weird._

But it doesn’t stop there. No, then... then the Jodel shit starts.

No one is ever quite sure how it happens. Trying to trace it all back to the original post is far too daunting. All of a sudden there are dozens of posts on Jodel about the diner, and about Chris specifically - how wacky she is and how much fun people have when she’s their server. She develops this insane following and brings in even _more_ business, which Yousef and Even are of course delighted about but holy shit, the _stress._

Chris is just tickled to death by the whole thing, of course. She gets a little arrogant, too, really - in addition to all of her regular admirers, she gets asked out _constantly._ Isak ends up rolling his eyes a lot more and struggles some with the blows to his self-esteem when his tables are disappointed that Chris’s section is full and they have to settle for him. 

So yeah. He has no qualms about blaming her for the fact that it’s another insanely busy Saturday shift and there’s a line out the door and one has to yell to be heard over all the noise of the jukebox and talking, and they’re all going to be dead on their feet by the time the night is over.

He actually takes a sick sort of pleasure in seeing her red-faced and clearly frazzled by the middle of their shift. Chris is an awesome waitress (in spite of her borderline-inappropriate behavior with most of her customers) and she rarely makes mistakes, so it’s quite surprising to witness her having an off night. Isak is juggling seven tables - they’re mostly cool, undemanding people though, so he’s doing just fine, but when he ducks into the server’s station to refill some drinks, he sees Chris hunched over, flipping through her order book and muttering to herself. “Look at Little Miss Princess of Jodel over here,” he murmurs, reaching past her for the soda gun. 

“Shut the fuck up,” she snaps, and blows a lock of hair out of her face with unnecessary force. “I just got triple-sat because that one big party left and freed up three tables at once.”

“Okay, well, you know what to do. Just treat all three of them like one table.” Isak almost rolls his eyes - _she’d_ been the one to first tell him that, way back during the first week they were open and he’d nearly panicked the first time it happened to him. 

“I know, I know, it’s just--” She waves a hand at him and goes back to hurriedly turning pages in her book. “I know I wrote it down, where the fuck is it?”

“What do you need?” Isak asks, the question coming out of his mouth automatically, because he can see now that she’s in real trouble. 

“I can do it myself!”

“Chris. Tell me what you need.”

“Um.” Chris presses the heel of her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes for a second. “Table eight needs a refill on fries. Six hasn’t gotten their order yet and I know it’s been too long, I think maybe the guys lost the ticket. And um...” She rips through her order book again, tearing off one sheet and thrusting it at Isak. “Go turn that in. I forgot.”

“Got it. Let me just do this and then I’ll take care of it.” He grabs his three filled glasses, Chris’s order ticket flapping between his fingers as he walks swiftly back to his table to drop them off. Then he heads straight for the kitchen, leaning past Viktor at the window to call Even’s name.

“What’s up?”

“This is for Chris, I’m gonna read it to you.” He has to squint for a second to make out her handwriting, and Even offers to just take it from him but Isak waves him off. “Table three: two burgers, bacon cheese, one pepper jack no tomato and one cheddar no mayo, add barbeque. On the fly please, it should have been in ten minutes ago.” He has no idea how long it’s actually been, but this sounds good. “And I need two orders of fries, also for Chris.”

“Why, what table?” Even asks. Before Isak can answer, he reaches over to snatch the order ticket from Isak’s hand and repeats it back to Magnus and Martin, expertly flips four burgers and a chicken breast on the grill, then looks back at Isak with his usual sunny grin as if nothing had just happened. “What table?” he asks again, quite calmly. The diner may be packed, but Even is in his element. 

“Eight just wants a refill and six has been waiting so I’m bringing them a snack.”

“Six is coming out now!” Martin yells, adding two sunny-side up eggs to a breakfast platter and slamming it into the window. He starts to grab the microphone out of habit, but Isak cuts him off. 

“I’ll just take it for her, gimme the ticket.”

Martin tosses it to him; Isak skims it quickly and grabs the three plates for it from the pile in the window, then steps around the corner so Even can place the basket of fries into the crook of his arm. “Thanks,” Isak tells him, smiling, and as usual he has to work hard not to melt when Even winks at him in response. 

He passes a frantic Chris on the way back out to the dining room, shouting, “I’ve got six right here for you babe, don’t even worry about it!” and is all smiles as he comes to a smooth stop in front of table six. “So sorry about the wait, everyone, but trust me, the food is worth it. Okay, who here is having breakfast for dinner tonight?”

Later, Isak nearly chokes on the glass of water he’s gulping down when Chris suddenly grabs him around the waist from behind. “Thank you, thank you _thank you,_ ” she gushes, pulling on his shoulder to turn him around. “Seriously, for earlier, you’re awesome.”

“No problem,” he manages to say, still coughing. 

She laughs and pounds his back, then immediately rubs her palm in circles over the spot, grinning up at him. “All this time, I believed in you. I knew you’d come through one day, Valtersen.”

“You were in the weeds and you needed help,” Isak says shortly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He’s not about to give her the fucking satisfaction. “I would have done it for anybody.”

“But you did it for _me,_ ” she replies. 

“Okay, so you owe me one,” he snaps back, downing the last of his water and then making a show of wriggling out of her grip. As he’s walking away, he looks back over his shoulder at her, smiling, and she pretends to faint.

And that’s how, after four years of awkwardness and exasperation, Isak Valtersen and Chris Berg finally became friends for life.

\--------- 

Yousef finally does take a few days off, after Even and the rest of the staff assure him that they can absolutely take care of everything while he’s gone. That turns out to be, well, _mostly_ true... a couple of drunk guys come in one night and harass Malin to the point of Viktor almost punching them, and then Viktor very nearly knocks the jukebox over while he’s reenacting it for Chris and Isak the next day. But other than that, yeah, everything’s just fine.

When Yousef gets back, he looks incredibly well-rested and much happier. He gives Isak a low-five when Isak comes in for his shift on Saturday evening and asks him how he’s doing, how he thinks the diner is doing, blah blah blah. It’s a very casual conversation until Yousef leans close to Isak’s ear and asks quietly, “And Even? Everything okay with him?”

For a wild second, Isak thinks he’s inquiring about his and Even’s unresolved _thing_ and just stares at him, but then he realizes Yousef is actually asking after Even’s well-being. “He seems totally okay to me,” he replies finally, breaking into a smile. 

“Yeah? No odd behavior?”

“None. Mags and I have been keeping a close eye on him.” Okay, Isak _always_ keeps a close eye on Even and not just for this reason, but Yousef doesn’t need to know that.

Yousef mimes wiping sweat from his forehead. “Good. I know somebody would have called me if something happened, but... yeah. Okay.” 

He clasps Isak’s hand again and gives him a brief hug before Isak heads for the back to clock in for his shift. The diner isn’t too busy yet, only about half-full, but he knows they’ve only got an hour or so left of this relative peace.

Isak is still tying his apron around his waist as he slides into the server’s station for a glass of water, and greets Chris, who’s standing there gnawing at her fingernails with a blank expression on her face. She doesn’t acknowledge him until he literally has to wave his hand in front of her eyes, and even then all she does is glance at him before pulling out her order book and pretending to be engrossed in it. 

“What’s up?” Isak asks, looking cautiously around the dining room to see if he can spot whatever is bothering her.

“Nothing,” she replies shortly. “Nothing at all.”

“Are you pissed at me for something?”

“No, Isak, I’m not. It’s nothing.”

He’s not in the mood to try to pry it out of her, so he just pats her shoulder sort of awkwardly and wanders to the kitchen. Even gifts him with that gorgeous smile, but before Isak can become too enamoured with it, Mags points at him through the window and tells him to join him in the walk-in for a minute. Perplexed, Isak shares a look with Even before following Magnus, rubbing his arms to ward off the chill before the door even shuts behind them.

“I have to talk to you,” Magnus says, and since his conversation with Yousef hasn’t left his mind yet, Isak immediately thinks the worst. _Even._ Mags has noticed something up with him that Isak hasn’t yet.

“Go ahead,” he says, his mind already racing.

“You can’t tell anybody. _Anybody._ Swear to me.”

“Jesus fuck, I swear!” Isak snaps. “What is it?”

Magnus closes his eyes and sighs dramatically. “I hooked up with somebody last night. From here.”

 _Oh._ Relief floods through him. “Who?” He feels silly for asking since, unless Magnus is way less straight that Isak thinks, there's really only one option who doesn't already have a boyfriend. 

Mags still has his eyes shut, and now he squeezes them shut tighter still. “Chris.”

Yup. “You’re _joking._ ”

“I’m really not.”

“What the fuck, did you guys just make out, or...?”

“Nope. Not just.”

Isak brings a hand to his mouth, the other tugging at Magnus’s arm in disbelief. “Seriously?! Tell me what happened!”

“We were up at Even’s after work, just chilling and having a good time, like always, and we’d each had three beers by the time we left and I don’t think Even was exactly okay with turning us loose, since we were still pretty wasted, but anyway, we’re walking to the tram and she almost trips, so I grab her arm to keep her from falling and she’s laughing like crazy, you know how she does, and it’s making _me_ laugh, and we’re like clutching at each other and laughing like idiots, and I just-- I _kissed_ her, and she kissed me back, totally grabbing me around the neck and everything, and I don’t even know how it happened but we ended up back at her place and stuff happened and I woke up in bed with her this morning and it was awkward as fuck, completely fucking mortifying, man.”

Well, _no wonder_ Chris had acted like that a minute ago. “How was-- I mean, uh...” Isak is curious as hell, but he can’t figure out how to ask this politely, so he just sort of goes for it. “Do you want to do it again?”

Mags looks at him miserably, and after a long moment, just gives him a nod. “She was fucking amazing.”

“I mean, I’m not-- boobs aren’t my thing, you know that, but I bet she would be great, yeah.” And he totally means it. As annoying as Isak has found her for all these years, Chris’s self-confidence is something he’s always admired. 

“Yeah, but she was so _cold_ to me this morning, she basically shoved me out the door. And every time she comes back here to pick up she won’t even look at me. She’s only talking to Even. I don’t even want to make any of her food.”

“Oh God,” Isak groans, unable to help rolling his eyes. “Listen, just-- you have to get over that shit. Do you want me to talk to her?”

“ _Yes._ Isak, please, man. Please find out what the fuck she’s thinking.”

But Chris refuses to give him anything. “I’m not going to talk about it,” is all she’ll say, and then she just shoves past Isak and proceeds to ignore him for most of the night, too. Isak tries to convey this to Magnus in the nicest way possible, but Mags just looks fucking _heartbroken,_ so Isak promises him he’ll try again tomorrow.

He doesn’t have to wait that long, though. They’re nearly closed, and Isak is in the server’s station going through his receipts for the night when Chris’s voice is suddenly there in his ear.

“You know, I’ve known Magnus for like four years now? And all that time he was just there, hanging around, with that incredible fucking tongue in his mouth and I had no idea.” 

Isak just gapes up at her, utterly horrified, and does his best not to gag. “Is that so?”

She glares at him. “Don’t tell him I said that. I’m not doing the co-worker thing, no way. I’ve done it before and I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Wouldn’t it be less drama to stop pretending he’s invisible, though?”

“Oh, like you can even talk,” she says sharply. “I swear to God, if you and Even don’t make out soon this whole place is gonna burn down from the sexual tension.” Isak opens his mouth to protest, but she flounces off, giving him the finger over her shoulder.

\---------

“Petition to remove this fucking song from the fucking juke. All those in favor raise your hands!”

Malin cursing like this is a rare thing indeed, but there’s no time for them to be shocked. Not when the situation is this dire. Hands shoot up into the air, and Malin gives Even a triumphant smile through the kitchen window. “Do it. Call whoever you have to call, break the whole thing if you have to, but _do it._ ”

Even just stares back at her, then at Isak beside her, and then at Magnus, all wearing identical glares, and scoffs. He opens his mouth, all of them thinking he’s going to just slather them with his usual “but it's so iconic!” drivel, but then, unbelievably, he starts to sing along. “ _So bye-bye, Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levee--_ ”

“Shut up!” yell all three of them in perfect unison. 

Even just bursts out laughing, continuing to sing loudly as he turns back to the grill. 

They all hate this song. Hate it. Want to see it burn in a giant blazing pyre soaked with gasoline. It had been just fine for a while; the entire staff used to sing along to it just like Even is now. But they’d underestimated how much the customers would love it. Nearly every single day, it’s the very first song selected to be played on the jukebox, the very last one they hear at the end of the night, and is played at least ten other times in between. They _hate_ it. 

“Get him to take it out, I’m begging you,” Malin says to Isak, clutching at his arm. “He listens to you.” 

As if on cue, Even slides a finished plate into the window and points directly at him while singing, “ _And can you teach me how to dance reeeal slowwww?_ ” He beams at Isak, who is gripping Malin’s arm in return in his effort to not slide right to the floor.

“I’ll do what I can,” Isak tells her weakly, and she lays her head on his shoulder briefly before grabbing the maple syrup she’d come back here for and racing off again. Isak clears his throat, trying to focus, and drums his fingers on the window. “Mags, you said it’d be up in just a second.”

“ _And them good ol’ boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye..._ ” God, Even’s such a fucking _dork._

“Sorry man, _somebody’s_ distracting me,” Magnus replies, throwing Even another good glare before sprinkling the garnish of green onions on the top of the chili dog special Isak’s been waiting for and setting the plate in the window. Then, just to be a dick, apparently, he grabs the mike and yells into it, “Order up for my good buddy Isak! Come on in here, Isak, these people are hungry, let’s feed ‘em.” Isak just stares at him, already holding the two plates he needs, and Mags leans closer to him. “I had to drown out the song for a second so maybe he’ll shut up.”

“No chance of that, Mags!” Even spins toward the window again to set another plate down, grinning at Isak and humming along to the song. At least he’s only _humming_ now. “Food’s getting cold,” he says mildly, pointing at the plates Isak’s holding.

“I’m going, I’m going.” Isak rolls his eyes while still smiling like a complete idiot as he walks through the dining room, setting the plates down in front of Eva and Sana. “Compliments of our very own Magnus,” he tells them, stealing a French fry from Eva’s chili dog plate and popping it into his mouth. “Just yell if you need me!”

It’s a relatively slow Thursday afternoon; Isak’s been on since they opened at 11:00 and is looking forward to clocking out in an hour or so and meeting up with the boys. He’s off tomorrow and doesn’t have to be back until the start of the dinner shift on Saturday, so he’s planning to fucking _sleep._

He does a quick check of his other three tables before grabbing a refill on Eva’s Coke from the server’s station and placing it in front of her, and perches on the edge of the booth seat beside her. “Hi,” he says, smiling sweetly. “Food good?”

Both she and Sana have their mouths full and can only nod and hum, but Eva manages to give him a thumbs-up as well. When she finally swallows, she pushes her plate toward him. “Go ahead and have more of my fries, I don’t care.”

He takes another, and then a third, wolfing them down quickly, then he pops up again to head back to the kitchen for an ETA on the order for his only table not eating yet. “Four minutes,” Even tells him, and Isak is about to leave when Even calls him back. “You’re off soon, yeah?”

“Yes, for almost 48 glorious hours.”

“Want a beer before you go?”

It’s _so_ tempting, but... “I’m going out with Mahdi and Jonas,” he replies, giving Even an apologetic smile. Honestly, if Even keeps staring at him like that, he might end up blowing them off in spite of himself, so he practically runs back to Sana and Eva’s table just to escape. 

“We saw that, you know,” Sana informs him, pointing at him with her fork. “Everybody in this whole place sees everything between you two. You’re both so stupid and obvious.”

“How could you even hear what we said?”

Eva snorts. “We don’t have to _hear._ Seeing is plenty, believe me.”

Just then Yousef swings by, pausing just long enough to give Sana a quick kiss on the cheek and to playfully fuss at Isak for sitting there with them. Sana calls after him to be quiet and let his staff _rest_ for a minute, holy shit, and she waits until he’s safely out of earshot to go back to the previous subject.

“I’ve known Even since I was twelve years old, Isak,” she tells him flatly. “I can read him like a book. It only took me like two minutes to see it. He’s so thirsty for you it’s _gross._ ” 

“Yeah, and literally no one understands why you’re not together already,” Eva adds, speaking around a bite of her chili dog. “Seriously, what is the deal?”

Isak just sits there staring at the two of them, too stunned and frankly too embarrassed to speak. It’s been six days, and Magnus and Chris are still completely awkward around each other; they’ve hardly exchanged ten words and the tension when they’re both in the kitchen area is _incredibly_ uncomfortable. Their situation has cemented his resolve that this thing between him and Even just can’t happen. If it were to go bad, the diner would collapse in on itself. 

But he can’t say any of that, because Chris and Mags have both sworn him to secrecy. He doesn’t know if Chris has told either Sana or Eva about it, but judging by her apparently wanting to pretend it never happened, he doubts it. 

So he just steals another fry from Eva’s plate, mumbles, “Excuse me,” and slinks back to the kitchen, wanting to get there before Even calls him over the PA and makes his knees go weak with that voice he always uses just for him.

\---------

It’s Tuesday. The lunch rush is over and the diner is quieter than Isak can remember it being in weeks. He’s not on shift, but he’s here, because doing homework while sitting at the counter with a Reuben sandwich and a vanilla Coke seemed like a much nicer idea than eating ramen noodles at home. 

And of course, when he’s at home, he can’t see Even.

He can see him now, though. Well, some of him, anyway. He’s in the kitchen, naturally, facing the counter and taking advantage of the quiet to do some prep work. They’ve got a whole prep station further back in the kitchen, but Even has chosen to bring the veggies over here so he can be close to the grill if Magnus needs help and to survey the dining room. 

That’s the practical option. Isak’s romantic side, though? Is convinced that Even is doing his work here so he can look at _him._ Isn’t that why Isak had opted to sit at the counter instead of in a booth, which is much more comfortable? Of course it is. He can only see Even’s face and upper torso through the kitchen window, but it’s enough. It’s plenty.

This whole thing is so stupid. It’s fucking idiotic. Yet here they are, not talking, neither of them really doing the work they’re there to do and instead just stealing little glances at each other and wearing sappy, drippy smiles. 

Isak’s falling in love with him. He's probably already there. 

Yousef pauses at the end of the counter to ask him if he needs anything, and Isak shakes his head. He doesn’t even mind that Yousef had almost certainly seen him staring at Even - at this point, he couldn’t care less who sees. There’s absolutely no point in hiding it anymore; he couldn’t no matter how much he wanted to. 

Because see, the reason why Chris and Mags are acting so weird around each other is because they don’t _feel_ anything. That’s the difference. Isak wants Even so much, feels so fucking _good_ whenever he’s around, that denying it makes no sense. It serves no purpose other than to delay the inevitable. This is going to happen. If Even feels half as much as Isak does, or even a quarter - and Isak is pretty sure he’s not just fooling himself into thinking that he does - then it has to happen. There’s nothing that can stop it now.

His food has gone cold. He doesn’t care. He’s barely started his homework. He couldn’t give less of a fuck. 

Isak doesn’t see Mags anywhere. Even’s the only one in the kitchen right now, and if he’s cooking anything, Isak can’t tell. There’s only about six occupied tables in the place anyway, so they have time to just be here, gazing at each other, having an entire lovesick conversation with only their eyes. 

And just to slap an extra-special layer on this whole ridiculous scene, “I Only Have Eyes For You” by The Flamingos begins playing on the jukebox. Isak would be willing to bet Yousef picked it out just to fuck with them. 

_My love must be a kind of blind love, I can’t see anyone but you..._

They both glance over at the juke, chuckling softly and shaking their heads, and then their eyes meet yet again, warm and wistful. Isak is _this close_ to just leaning on his elbow and letting out a dreamy little sigh, but then--

Even’s eyes suddenly go very wide. He stares at Isak in helpless shock, his mouth dropping open, and then he looks down and his eyes widen even more, if possible.

Whatever he’s staring at, Isak can’t see it himself because of the wall between them. He calls Even’s name, twice, but Even doesn’t respond, and when he finally looks back up at Isak it's with terror all over his face, then he slithers to the floor out of sight.

Isak bolts up from his stool and races into the kitchen to see Even slumped over, holding his left hand up to his chest with his right - his fingers covered in blood. 

“Even, oh God, what-- come here.” Isak crouches beside him, trying to pry Even’s hands open. He looks wildly up at the counter where Even had been standing - there’s a half-chopped bell pepper, a very sharp chef’s knife, and drops of blood smeared everywhere. “You cut yourself,” Isak says blankly. 

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Even whispers. His breathing has become very shallow. “Wanted to look at you instead.”

“ _Even,_ fuck,” Isak moans, and grasps him by the shoulders to pull him up standing. “Come on, come over here to the sink.”

It’s all happened so quickly. Barely 30 seconds have gone by. Even is shaking now, whimpering and actually starting to cry a little as Isak manages to get his injured left hand under the running water. Isak’s not sure whether the tears are from pain or shock. The cut is on his index finger, Isak can see now, about two inches long, and it’s extremely deep. He winces, trying to stay calm. “Just stay right here and keep it under the water,” he tells Even, and after Even nods, Isak takes two large steps backward so he can grab the kitchen microphone and page both Yousef and Magnus back here.

There’s an instant flurry of activity - Mags races for the first aid kit and dumps its entire contents onto the counter while Yousef keeps insisting that Even needs stitches, and Isak is just trying to keep Even from breaking down, one arm wrapped tightly around him while he holds Even’s left hand under the water for a few more minutes, desperate to stop the flow of blood. “Listen, just take him to-- Mags, stop! Isak, just take him to the ER. It’ll be fine.” Yousef’s voice is firm, but Isak can see the fear in his eyes. “It’ll be fine,” he repeats, and Isak smiles at him.

“Of course it will. Even? We’re gonna go, okay?” Even just nods; he’s still trembling and doesn’t really seem able to speak at this point.

Waiting for a taxi would take just as long as it would to walk there, so Isak marches Even out the back door with his hand wrapped tightly in a paper towel. He’d shoved a few extras in his pocket just in case, and sure enough, before they’re even halfway there the makeshift bandage is soaked through. He keeps speaking softly to Even for the entire ten-minute walk, assuring him over and over that everything’s going to be okay. He doesn’t even notice that he’s taken Even’s good hand at some point, but their fingers are tightly linked together when they enter Legevakten.

Isak keeps Yousef updated via text while they’re there - Even gets 16 stitches as well as some very nice painkillers, once Isak makes absolutely sure they won’t interfere with the other medications he takes. Two hours later, they’re ready to head back to Throwback - Even wants to walk again, but the physician lets Isak know in a quiet voice that the drugs will kick in very soon so walking isn't advisable, and they call for a taxi instead.

They’re standing outside waiting for it, holding hands again, but this time Isak is very much aware of it.

“It’s gonna be a bitch to cook with this thing on,” Even pouts, holding his bandaged hand up in front of his eyes. “Look at this,” he adds, turning his hand and putting it very close to Isak’s face.

“Ha, I know it is,” Isak says softly, taking hold of his hand and giving it a very gentle squeeze, taking care to avoid the injured finger.

“Why did I do that?”

“Because you were staring at me. Like an idiot.”

Even hums, giving him a softer, drugged-up version of the beautiful smile that’s just for Isak. “Thank you for taking care of me. Again.” 

And Isak doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t think at all, before pressing his lips to the end of Even’s hurt finger. “You’re welcome.” He kisses it again, and then once more, before his attention is diverted by their taxi pulling up to the curb.

Once they’re settled in the back seat, though, Isak’s eyes go right back to Even’s. Even has his head lolled back, a deeply content expression on his face, and he just looks so incredibly sweet that Isak has to blink back sudden tears. He’s still holding Even’s good hand, and now he reaches for the bandaged one again, carefully spreading the fingers so he can place another kiss to the one Even had cut. “Kisses for the pain,” he whispers. 

“Doesn’t hurt anymore,” Even replies softly, and untangles his right hand from Isak’s so he can cup Isak’s cheek. “First time you kissed it, the pain went _poof!_ Gone. Like magic.”

“You’re the one with the magic.”

Once again, he doesn’t think. There’s nothing _to_ think about anymore, really. Not with Even’s warm hand on his face, with the taste of Even’s skin still on his lips. Isak leans in, pauses for a fraction of a second, just long enough for Even to pull away if he wants... and when he doesn’t, Isak’s mouth curves into a smile as he kisses him at last. And it feels as natural as breathing.

The cab ride is over much too quickly; he shouldn’t have done this here. Now they have to go back into the diner and face reality. He wonders if they might have to go right back to the ER before too long because his heart is pounding so hard he honestly thinks he might have a heart attack.

“Hey,” Isak greets Yousef in a tired voice, playacting a little to cover up what had just happened in the taxi, and then he nods at Viktor and Malin, who are there for the dinner shift.

“Thank you so much,” Yousef replies quietly, then turns his attention to Even with a tentative smile. “Hey dude, how you feeling?”

“Awesome. I’m _awesome._ I feel fucking great right now, okay?” 

“Wow, you are _out_ of it,” Yousef mumbles, and Isak hums in response, nodding hard. He is very much out of it, yes. They both are at this point. Yousef looks at him with a slight grimace and then turns back to Even, patting his hand. “I think you should go on upstairs. Isak, can you...?”

“Sure,” Isak says, maybe a little too brightly. 

“And stay with him for a while?”

“No problem!” He’s trying so hard to just be cool here. _So_ hard. 

“I gathered up your books and stuff, and put your backpack in the office,” Yousef tells him. “I’ll get it for you before you go,” he adds, and Isak thanks him. He’d barely had the presence of mind to grab his phone before they left; everything else had just been left strewn across the counter out front.

Isak leads Even upstairs by the hand, doing his best to function with this weird buzzing in his ears and throbbing in his chest. He’s trying to talk himself down from this, telling himself that Even is _impaired_ and that kiss in the taxi hadn’t counted, that he’s taking some sick sort of advantage of Even right now and the whole thing is just going to blow up in his face. But Even had taken his hand first this time, and Isak can tell he’s not gripping it for balance now.

Once they’re inside Even’s apartment, Isak lets his backpack slide to the floor as they take off their shoes. “Let’s watch Netflix,” Even says at once, heading straight for his laptop on the coffee table. Isak is about to agree, but Even doesn’t sit on the sofa - he walks toward the bedroom, where Isak has still never been. 

When Even realizes Isak isn’t following him, he turns to stare at him. “Come on. The bed’s not going to bite you,” he says, his eyes slightly wide.

“I... have homework?” It sounds so pathetic that Isak has to fight the urge to wince. “I was in the middle of it when...”

“No you weren’t,” Even says simply, and Isak has no argument. “Fuck homework! Come lay down with me. Just for a little while.”

He can’t say no. He doesn’t know how much of this is the painkillers and how much is actually Even at this point, but does it really matter when he has the chance to curl up beside him in that - _wow,_ that big, gorgeous bed with the duvet that looks so soft and the piles and piles of pillows? Isak’s feet have carried him right to the bedroom doorway without him realizing it and he’s staring across the threshold in wonder, as if Even’s room is a kingdom he never thought he’d reach.

Even tells him he’s been re-watching _Friends,_ which suits Isak just fine. Honestly, they could watch a horror movie in Korean and he wouldn’t have cared less, not when Even is half-draped over him, his head pillowed on Isak’s shoulder.

“I’m so Monica,” Even says softly after a while. 

Isak snorts. “Because she’s a chef?”

“Yeah, that, and because she’s neurotic and doesn’t think she’ll ever find love and happiness.”

“But Chandler’s there to save her.”

“Yeah, and you’re so _not_ Chandler. You’re not any of them. I don’t know who you are. I just know I like you.”

Isak closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath, giving Even’s hand a grateful squeeze. “At least we’re not Ross and Rachel, though. They’re so fucked up.”

“They’re each other’s lobsters, though. Are you my lobster, Isak?”

“I’ll be your anything, you giant, giant dork,” he whispers, and presses his lips to Even’s temple.

After three and a half episodes Even is nearly asleep, and Isak grudgingly pulls out of his arms, telling him that he really is going to go do some work now. “Okay,” Even mumbles, but just before Isak stands up from the bed, Even touches his arm. “Don’t leave, okay?” he says quietly, gentle pleading in his half-closed eyes.

“I’m not, I promise,” Isak assures him. Where would he possibly go?

“Make a snack if you get hungry. Won’t be as good as my food, but you know.”

Isak snickers softly and replies, “Go to sleep. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

As he’d suspected, it’s impossible to concentrate on his homework. Quarks and hadrons just aren’t as interesting as the sound of Even’s slow, steady breathing in the next room - nothing ever could be. He gives up after an hour and sends a text to Yousef that Even is asleep and seems just fine, and that he’ll hang out for a while longer. No need to worry.

Then he wanders into the kitchen, feeling a bit like an intruder as he pokes through the fridge and cabinets. He _is_ hungry though, since he’d abandoned his Reuben halfway through eating in favor of staring at Even. Which of them had started it? Isak can’t remember. He can’t remember ever _not_ staring at Even anymore.

Eggs. He can do eggs. He finds a skillet and a bowl, and with a small smile he taps the first egg gently on the counter, holds it over the bowl with one hand, and squeezes the shell. The contents fall into the bowl with a satisfying _plop,_ and there’s not a single bit of shell in there. Isak thinks, right now, he could separate the yolk from the white like a goddamn pro. 

He adds butter to the pan, grinds sea salt and black pepper into his three beaten eggs, then spots the row of herbs and spices behind the stove. What had Mags added during his interview? Garlic salt... smoked paprika. Even has both, of course.

He’s just about to open the fridge again in search of cheese when he hears sudden movement behind him and whirls to see Even standing there, looking quite lucid. Isak licks a dab of butter from his thumb and quickly catalogues the various things going on in the kitchen - stove burner on, melting butter in the skillet, eggs ready to be poured. And then there’s Even, standing there all tall and rumpled and so very close, so very beautiful. Even, who likes him, who’d wanted him to stay. Who’d cupped his cheek in the back of a taxi and hadn’t moved away when Isak kissed him.

Fuck the food, to be honest.

“Hi,” Isak says, heart in his throat.

“I need to ask you something.” 

“Okay.”

“Did-- did that really happen, earlier? Or did I hallucinate it?”

Of course Isak knows what he’s talking about, but... “Did what really happen?” he asks, doing his best to sound innocent when he knows the hot blush spreading over his face will give him away in an instant.

“Did you...” Even murmurs, closing the already tiny space between them and laying a hand on either side of Isak’s waist. “Kiss me? Several times?”

“I kissed your _finger_ several times,” Isak replies, brushing his thumb over the one wrapped in gauze. “To be precise. But here...” He raises a trembling hand to lightly touch Even’s lower lip with a fingertip, and is barely able to hold back a whimper when Even’s mouth shifts to rub against it. “Just once.”

“So far.”

“So far, yeah.”

“Can we change that?”

“ _Please,_ ” Isak whispers, and barely has a chance to take a breath before Even’s lips are on his. _Finally._

He falls back against the fridge, so hard that he hears its contents rattle, and Even laughs against his mouth, stroking through Isak’s hair with his uninjured hand. It’s so much better than Isak’s ever imagined, kissing Even, breathing him in, able to feel his very _life force_ thrumming under his skin. 

“Stove,” Isak manages to mumble between kisses, and Even just hums out a question. “Stove’s on,” he says again, groping blindly for the knob, but Even’s fingers close over Isak’s, turning off the burner.

Then Even cups Isak’s face between his hands, stroking his skin, his eyes drinking in every single detail. The gauze scratches a bit, but Isak doesn’t care. It’s there because of him, anyway. “Safe now, don’t worry,” Even murmurs, and presses his lips to Isak’s forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks. Everywhere. It’s not nearly enough.

“Wanted you for so long,” Isak whispers, tipping his head back when Even’s mouth wanders down to his neck. “Since the first time I saw you. Walking out of that fucking kitchen downstairs.”

“I think we’ve waited long enough, then.” Even grins, taking Isak’s hand and pulling him toward the bedroom. 

“Hang on, I was _cooking,_ ” Isak says wildly, looking back over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, would you rather eat?”

“ _No,_ I just...” Isak pulls out of Even’s embrace with a whine and goes back to the counter, staring sadly at the bowl of eggs. Even slips his arms around him, tucking his chin over Isak’s shoulder. “Sorry for wasting your eggs,” Isak mumbles, and he has to smile at the memory the words spark. 

Even brushes his lips against the side of Isak’s neck again, then whispers, “ _Our_ eggs. And they won’t go to waste.” He picks up the bowl and leans around Isak’s body to set it in the fridge. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO. The parents of an old friend of mine actually met in a situation nearly identical to the finger-cutting scene, and ever since my friend first told me the story I’ve thought it’s pretty much the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. So sadly, I cannot take credit for crafting it out of thin air! 
> 
> I worked at a diner very similar to the one depicted in the fic, and the staff growing to hate the song “American Pie” is based on my real-life experience there. Plenty of other little moments in this chapter are pulled from my memories of working at that diner as well ;) And yes, going into the walk-in cooler to scream out your frustrations is totally a thing.
> 
> Also, hey, bonus Chris B/Magnus! The lovely [Lys](http://diamondjacket.tumblr.com) has dubbed the pairing “Fossberg”. This will not be the last you see of them. You’re welcome.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! Comments/kudos are always very much appreciated <333
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dahlstrom.tumblr.com)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How—” Isak’s voice cracks slightly and he has to clear his throat. “How often do you see me staying over?” he asks, foolishly hoping Even can’t hear how hard his heart is pounding. 
> 
> “I mean, I don’t want to get my hopes up for every single night, but sort of a lot? As often as I can persuade you, anyway.”
> 
> Okay, this is an actual, real thing for Even. He wants this. He wants _Isak,_ just as Isak wants him - because honestly, staying over here every single night sounds pretty much perfect.
> 
> “God, why didn’t we do this weeks ago?” Isak mumbles, moving his hand from Even’s chest to his jaw and craning his neck to be able to kiss him again, trying not to let their mouths separate as he shifts his body to be as close to Even as possible at every point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay darlings, this chapter is just 12K of pure fluff and silliness and cheese, and I threw in a bunch of extra fun stuff that I hadn’t originally planned, just because most of us are feeling so dejected by the wasteland of s4 lately. I banged out almost all of it over the last two days, so hopefully it’s not a total mess. I hope you enjoy it! Usual **warning** for food descriptions, though less than there have been in previous chapters.

They never quite get around to Even making breakfast.

It’s entirely Isak’s fault. When Even tries to get up to cook for them, Isak won’t allow it. He’s basically holding Even hostage in his own bed, but when he’s trying to rationalize it later, he convinces himself that Even is at least a little bit to blame, because he’s warm and gorgeous and extra gravelly-voiced this early and, well, _naked._ Naked and pliant in Isak’s arms, exhausted and a little giddy due to how little sleep they’ve gotten, his eyes soft and hazy, his mouth lush and his tongue sweet and yeah, seriously, food can fucking _wait._

“You used a lot of energy last night, though,” Even murmurs against Isak’s protests. “You need to recharge. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Aren’t I what?”

“Hungry?”

Isak just stares down at him with one eyebrow raised while a tiny, wicked smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I am, actually,” he whispers, and begins to kiss his way down Even’s body, a path he's already becoming very familiar with. By the time the kisses reach his belly, Even finally seems to get it, snorting with quiet laughter and covering his face with one hand, his other sliding into Isak’s hair.

“ _That_ kind of hungry, I guess,” he says, still giggling around the edges of words.

“I could eat something, yeah.”

Even just groans, his fingers tightening in Isak’s hair, and Isak takes it as a green light.

After, they doze for a little longer, Isak nearly falling all the way back to sleep before Even gently rubs his arm and tells him in a low voice that he needs to get up and take a shower. “I have to go downstairs. Work.”

Isak, however, lets out a soft whine and throws one leg over Even’s hips, effectively pinning him down yet again. “No.”

“I’m serious this time.”

“Not yet.”

Even sighs, pulling Isak closer and pressing his lips to his forehead. “I don’t want to, believe me.”

“I’ll text Yousef and tell him your hand hurts too much. That he has to open the kitchen this morning.”

“Oh, will you?”

“Yeah, I’ll sweet-talk him.”

“And what will you say when he asks how you know my hand still hurts? If I’d texted you about it I certainly could have texted him to tell him myself.”

Isak tips his head back and glares up at Even. “Stop trying to ruin this. It’s a perfect plan. Where’s my phone? I’ll do it, watch me.”

“You left it in the other room after you texted Eskild you weren’t coming home.”

“Fuck.”

Even taps his nose lightly with a fingertip. “Mine is right here, but you can’t text Yousef from my phone unless you want to answer a whole bunch of questions about it that will just distract you from being able to lay here in bed with me anyway, so there’s no point.”

Grumbling, Isak just snuggles closer to Even’s side and pulls the duvet tightly around them, making it perfectly clear he’s not about to give up yet. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Almost nine.”

“You don’t have to be down there till ten, come on, we have time.”

Even just sighs again, chuckling deep in his throat. “I can already foresee this becoming a problem.”

“Oh, it took you this long? I’m not letting you up until the last possible second.”

“No, I don’t just mean today. Every time you stay over it’s going to be like this, isn’t it?”

That makes Isak’s heart skip a beat, maybe two. So far, he’s been so caught up in the moment, in the exhilaration of this _finally happening_ that he hasn’t given a single thought to what happens next. At a loss for words, all he can respond with is a quiet hum, eyes focused on his fingers splayed across Even’s chest, and then he waits.

“Mags has told me stories about your laziness,” Even says after a few seconds. “I didn’t want to believe them because this whole time I’ve known you, you’ve been a hard worker and everything. But now it’s all coming to light.” He laughs quietly again and drops several small kisses to Isak’s forehead and cheeks, then looks directly into his eyes for a heart-stopping moment before pressing their lips together. 

“How—” Isak’s voice cracks slightly and he has to clear his throat. “How often do you see me staying over?” he asks, foolishly hoping Even can’t hear how hard his heart is pounding. 

“I mean, I don’t want to get my hopes up for every single night, but sort of a lot? As often as I can persuade you, anyway.”

Okay, this is an actual, real thing for Even. He wants this. He wants _Isak,_ just as Isak wants him - because honestly, staying over here every single night sounds pretty much perfect.

“God, why didn’t we do this weeks ago?” Isak mumbles, moving his hand from Even’s chest to his jaw and craning his neck to be able to kiss him again, trying not to let their mouths separate as he shifts his body to be as close to Even as possible at every point. 

Even allows the kiss to stretch out for long, long moments before he pulls back enough to speak, keeping their foreheads tilted together. “I didn’t want to push or anything.” Another tiny kiss, then another, and then he whispers, “I was just waiting for you, I don’t know.”

“I didn’t know if I should. I kept trying to ignore it. Like, if it was even okay to... I mean, the whole working together thing.” It’s on the tip of Isak’s tongue to mention Chris and Magnus, but he remembers just in time that Even doesn’t know about their little tryst. “Plus, Eskild beat it into my head that sleeping with your boss is this horrible crime.”

“I don’t give a fuck about any of that!” Even laughs, stroking Isak’s cheek with _the sappiest_ look in his eyes. “Who cares, seriously? It’s not like you’re going to get special treatment. I’m not going to shove everyone else’s tables aside and make all your orders first.” He cackles again, clearly quite tickled by the very idea. Isak’s heart is positively _swelling_ at the fact that Even is only seeing the positive possible outcomes to this and is apparently not even thinking about things going bad between them and creating tension in the workplace. “And we don’t have some stupid corporate policy or anything. Yousef and I make the rules, so I say we can date.”

That’s... okay, that’s not the word he’d been expecting to hear. _Date._ Isak swallows hard, hoping the mild panic he’s feeling doesn’t show on his face. “Date,” he repeats. “Is— is that what you think this is?” 

Even’s smile slowly fades and it’s got to be one of the worst things Isak has ever seen. “That came out wrong, I—”

But Even cuts him off with a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay. I’m rushing. If you want to just see where this goes, that's cool with me.”

Well, _no,_ it's not, because the last thing he wants is for Even to back off or think Isak's just in this for sex or whatever might be going through his mind right now. “It just surprised me. I didn't know what you wanted.”

“Did you think this was going to be a one-time thing?” Even holds up his injured hand, both eyebrows raised. “Do you think _this_ happened because I was just thinking about your dick?”

Isak rolls his eyes but it's mostly a reflex, and a weak effort to distract Even from how red his face is becoming. “You're so far out of my league that the thought of you wanting to have sex with me was hysterical. Fuck, just you wanting to _kiss_ me.” Even lets out a little scoffing sound and clicks his tongue, but Isak puts a finger to his lips to quiet him. “Shut up. Do you have any idea how hot you are?”

“Do you have any idea how hot _you_ are?” Even counters, managing to speak even with Isak's finger against his mouth. 

“Okay, that's so not—”

“Isak,” Even whispers, and it's so tender, so _reverent_ that Isak's brain can't focus enough to keep his finger on Even’s lips; his hand falls uselessly to the bed. “You're beautiful, but you need to know that this is much, much more than physical for me.” He cups Isak’s cheek, his eyes roaming all over Isak’s face as he says, “I want this. I want you. I want to be with you. I want to... learn everything. Know everything about you. I think I know a lot already, but there’s whole volumes in here”—Even brushes his thumb lightly across Isak's forehead, then slides his fingers through Isak's hair—“that I don’t yet. And in here...” His other hand presses against Isak’s chest, right over his heart, and Isak’s eyes slip shut as a little gasping sigh escapes him. “In here? I bet there’s fucking _libraries._ And I want to read every word.”

“There’s not that much, but okay,” Isak mumbles, his face burning so much worse than before. He opens his eyes again to see Even looking directly into them, that sweet smile back now. “And it's not just physical for me either. I didn't mean to make you think that.”

“You didn't.”

“Okay,” he says, and gives Even a little nod. “So we’re dating. Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Just so I know, are you going to be this cute and gross every morning? Because I feel like I should prepare myself if you are.”

Even snorts. “This? This is nothing. I’m tired, so you’re only getting like half of what you could be.” 

“Oh, awesome.” It just comes out without thought; Isak doesn’t even know if it’s sarcasm or not, because Even has slowly and carefully rolled the two of them over and is now hovering above him, filling his entire field of vision, so coherent thinking is difficult at the moment. He shrinks back into the pillow, wanting Even to chase his lips, and Even delivers admirably. Isak hooks one leg lazily over the back of Even’s, which doesn’t hold him down as efficiently as before, but Even isn’t going anywhere. Their mouths seem to just fit together, as if they’ve already been intimately acquainted for years... both of them know exactly what to do to pull a soft sigh or some precious small sound from the other. It’s so _easy._

Isak doesn’t have a clue how much time passes before Even pulls back at last, but he’s fully content now and just hums quietly, eyes closed. Even’s gentle fingers smooth over his brows and around the shell of his ear, as if he’s trying to lull him back to sleep. It’s working; after a moment, Even speaks, and his voice seems to come from far away. “You work today, right?”

Isak sighs, nodding. “I’m on at four, yeah.”

“You can stay here if you want,” Even says, and kisses his cheek. “Go back to sleep for a while.”

“I’d love that. I have to go home later though, I don’t have my work clothes.”

“Well, I’d say you could just borrow something of mine, but I think you already stole all my white t-shirts.”

Isak cracks one eye open to glare at him. “Excuse me, you _loaned_ them to me.”

“Yet you have not returned them, hmmm.”

“You _know_ mine are all stained with chocolate from that stupid shake machine. And you work me like a dog so I haven’t had time to go out and buy new ones.”

“If you’re going to lay there and try to claim that you have less time off than I do—”

But it’s too much, it’s all just _too much_ and Isak’s heart is going to explode with fondness if Even doesn’t just shut the fuck up, so he wraps a hand around the back of Even’s neck and yanks him down into another kiss, a whole series of them, tongues delving deep and his jaw actually aching by the time they come up for air.

It’s 9:40 by now, so Isak relents at last and lets Even up because Malin’s doing the lunch shift today and she always gets there early, knocking on the front door precisely at 9:55. It’s for this reason (and _only_ this one) that Isak doesn’t try to finagle his way into the shower with him. If Viktor or Chris were the one opening today, he probably could have pulled it off.

He’s so incredibly relaxed that he almost dozes off and is therefore startled by the sensation of Even’s hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his head a few minutes later. He deeply breathes in the scent of Even’s soap with a lazy smile before he opens his eyes. Even is leaning directly over him, fully dressed with his hair damp and his skin practically glowing, and it’s all Isak can do to keep from pulling him right back down on top of him. “Hi,” Isak whispers.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to have the best morning, knowing that you’re up here naked in my bed,” Even murmurs, stroking Isak’s cheek and jaw with a delicate touch, and it feels so good that Isak can’t help closing his eyes again and just giving in, hardly hearing a word Even’s saying. “Every time I have to go into the walk-in I’ll just grin like an idiot because you’ll be right above me.”

“Maybe you should make extra trips in there, then.”

Even widens his eyes playfully. “Maybe I just will.” He bends down to press a sweet, single kiss to Isak’s lips, both of them trying hard not to whine at the loss when he stands up straight again. “Here, I brought your phone in case you want to go back to sleep and need to set an alarm.” He lays it on the nightstand, then picks up his own phone and slides it into his back pocket before saying, “Oh, when you leave, use the other door? I’ll leave the key for you and you can give it back to me when you come in for your shift.”

Isak nods, glad Even’s said something, because he’d been vaguely wondering how he’d explain his sudden appearance in the diner kitchen if he takes the door they usually use when coming up to Even’s apartment from the restaurant. He’d forgotten about the one leading to an outdoor staircase. 

“I’ll miss you,” Even says, putting on an exaggerated pout as he walks backward toward the bedroom door.

Isak just throws an arm over his eyes, unable to take the adorableness any longer, but he knows Even can see him smiling. Honestly, at this point? He’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.

————

_**Onsdag 14:17** _

_**To Even:** The bed smells like you so it was a great nap :)_

_**From Even:** See, you didn’t even need me to be there!_

_**To Even:** No not really_

_**From Even:** Hmm I’ll remember that_

_**From Even:** Going home soon?_

_**To Even:** Yes. I’d use your shower but then I’d smell like your shampoo and stuff and I’d want to make out with myself._

_**From Even:** I didn’t say you could use my shower anyway._

_**To Even:** Okay fine then! I take it back we’re not dating anymore._

_**From Even:** I’m crying onto the grill and all the food will taste like salt and it’s your fault_

_**To Even:** Our customers will have to share in your sadness._

_**To Even:** They’ll literally consume your pain._

_**From Even:** And then we’ll all cry together. It’ll be cathartic._

_**To Even:** Amen_

_**From Even:** I think Malin can tell something happened. She’s been giving me these strange little smiles all day. _

_**To Even:** People can always tell when you’ve gotten laid ;)_

_**From Even.** True. So idk, did you want to keep this quiet or...?_

_**To Even:** Why, do you?_

_**From Even:** I want to run through the street yelling about it are you kidding me?_

_**To Even:** I can actually picture you doing that. No we don’t have to hide it. But I don’t want to tempt fate by making a big announcement if you get what I mean?_

_**From Even:** Superstitious. I get you  <3_

_**To Even:** See you soon  <3_

————

There’s no sign of life in their flat and he’s extremely grateful for it, because he doubts he’d be able to come up with a believable excuse for his whereabouts last night or why he’s in such a good mood. Their co-workers knowing is one thing - they all spend far too much time together and know each other so well now that it would only be a matter of time anyway - but explaining this to his roommates is quite another. Eskild will probably be unbearable when he finds out.

Isak examines his face in the bathroom mirror while the water for his shower gets hot, remembering his text to Even a little while ago. Yeah, his sparkling eyes and completely tranquil expression are going to make it damn near impossible to hide that he’s spent the night with the most beautiful man in the world. He’s just happy none of his tables will be able to see the two small hickeys Even has left on his collarbone and hip. 

On the tram back down to Throwback, he’s tempted to text Even again and ask if he’s said anything about the change in their status yet, just so he has some idea of what he’s getting into when he arrives. All of their co-workers have made it clear at some point or another that they know about his and Even’s feelings - all except for Yousef. Isak has an inkling that Sana has talked to him about it, but he’s never received any sort of indication about what Yousef thinks of it, and he’s a little worried about his reaction, if he’s being honest with himself. Hopefully, he won’t disapprove. 

But he doesn’t have to worry about Yousef just yet, because there’s a little surprise waiting for him when he gets to work. He’s walking quickly through the dining room without really seeing anything or anyone around him, just wanting to get to the kitchen to clock in and see Even, when a low whistle off to his right distracts him. He stops short and looks around, his heart jumping into his throat when he sees Eskild and Linn in their usual booth, Eskild waving at him, Linn smirking.

Isak holds up a finger to them, but Eskild clicks his tongue loudly, shaking his head. With a pained expression, Isak glances through the kitchen window to at least get a glimpse of Even for now (he’s cooking, his back to the window, but fuck, it’s _plenty_ ) and strides over to his roommates. He can tell at once that they’ve been there for a while; he recognizes the remnants of Linn’s usual Reuben sandwich order on her plate and Eskild’s mostly-empty glass of cherry Coke. “What?”

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Eskild says silkily. “Got something to tell us?”

Isak looks at Linn, who widens her eyes at him as she takes a long draw from the straw in her Sprite, then back at Eskild. “About?”

“Don’t be coy. Everyone’s been talking about it all day.”

“Who? Where?”

“Everyone,” Eskild says again, maddeningly. “Oh, did you not know we have a group chat to gossip about you and Even? About when the hell you’re finally going to do it?”

Isak’s face - hell, his entire body - instantly turns magenta. “You _what?_ ”

“Oh, we’ve had it for weeks now. Mhm, all the girls, the boys, most of your co-workers - Martin never says much, keeps to himself, that one.” Isak is reeling, but Eskild doesn’t give him any time to process this information before dropping the next bomb on him. “But yeah, okay, so yesterday Magnus let everyone in the chat know that Even cut his hand. Very sad and all, hope he’s doing better... what am I talking about, of course he is after spending the night with you.”

Isak rolls his eyes and turns to leave, but Eskild grabs his wrist to keep him there before continuing. “Then when you texted that you weren’t coming home, I thought hmm, that’s odd, and I asked Jonas this morning if you were with him, and he said no. And then Mags chimed in and reminded me about Even’s finger, and about you accompanying him upstairs, and it all clicked.” Eskild beams at him, and Linn just snorts into her glass. “Like I said, we’ve been speculating _all day._ Some of the others wanted to be here to welcome you, too, but I made them back off. Told them they’d get their turn to see the two of you in action.”

Isak can only sputter nonsense words for a few seconds, completely flustered. “Are you expecting us to screw in the middle of the dining room or something?” he finally hisses through his teeth. 

“Isak, Isak, there are _laws._ No, we just want to see a little kissy-kiss. Or two. Or twenty.”

“The fuck you will.” He starts to stalk off again, but Eskild pulls him down to sit beside him, making soothing shushing noises. “I have to clock in, get off me,” Isak grumbles.

“Just a second. I can see now that this didn’t go over the way I expected.”

“Told you so,” Linn says, speaking half into her glass.

“Isak, don’t be mad,” Eskild murmurs, all his usual sass gone now. There’s a gentle smile on his face and his eyes are much softer than Isak’s used to seeing them. “I just wanted to have a little fun with you before I tell you how fucking _happy_ I am for you. For you and for Even, I mean... I was really starting to wonder if the two of you were ever going to get your shit together and do this. But now you _have_ and we’re all so, so goddamn happy.”

Isak can’t help squirming against Eskild’s arm around him, still blushing furiously but smiling a bit now. “You guys really all talk about us?”

“Dear God, yes. It’s been our own little NRK drama.”

“Jesus.”

Eskild waves a hand. “Okay, okay, I’m exaggerating. It’s not that bad. We just all love you both and we want you to be together, and now you _are._ ” He squeezes Isak tight to his side, making him groan. “And I’m sorry, I know you have to go start work, but we’ll stay for a while longer so you can come talk some more.”

Linn lets out a deep sigh, and Isak knows it's because she’d much rather not go along with this. But before he can say anything, she takes his hand very unexpectedly and says, “I’m happy for you, too. It’s pretty gross, the way you two drool over each other, but it’s still cute.”

Isak just stares back and forth between the two of them for a few more dazed seconds before forcing himself to stand up. “I’m probably late now, thanks.” 

And his co-workers make him even later, because Mags, Malin, and Chris are all waiting for him in the kitchen with silly grins on their faces. Magnus has Even glued tight to his side in an eerily similar way to how Eskild had just had Isak. “Get over here, you little lovebird!” Chris yells, both hands cupped around her mouth to make the command carry even further, and then she and Malin both start clapping, Mags accompanying them with loud whoops. 

But Isak has eyes only for Even, who’s blushing like crazy and beaming like he can’t believe their friends are this ridiculous and wonderful. “I didn’t say anything, I swear,” he tells Isak over the noise, and Isak just shakes his head and grabs his hand, freeing him from Magnus’s death grip, loops an arm around his neck, and pulls him in for a kiss. 

“About fucking time!” Chris calls, but Isak blocks her out. He blocks out the time clock he still hasn’t visited, the customers sitting at the counter craning their necks to see what the hell is going on, everything but Even. Even in his arms, Even’s lips on his. Nothing else could ever be this important.

————

Most of his shift passes in a haze, except for Even whispering in his ear just before he leaves for the evening that he’d love it if Isak stayed the night again. Isak just rolls his eyes at him, biting his lower lip as he mumbles that Even has to be an idiot if he thinks that won’t happen. 

After that, he’s just counting the minutes until closing time when he can actually go back upstairs. His servings skills are pretty lousy, but he doesn’t care - at least until Yousef pulls him aside to ask if he’s going to be able to focus at all tonight.

It’s then that it finally clicks for Isak - Yousef hadn’t been there in the kitchen earlier. In fact, he hasn’t said a single word about the whole situation. He doesn’t look angry, just concerned, and Isak swallows hard before nodding and assuring him that he’ll shape up. “I know you’re... preoccupied,” Yousef says quietly. Is that the barest hint of a smile on his face, or is Isak just hoping it’s there? “I get that. Just hang in for a few more hours.”

Isak nods again. “Sorry,” he says, and gives him an awkward half-smile. “Didn’t get much sleep, either,” he adds, the words out before he’s aware he’s said them, and then his eyes widen in shock. Because _fuck,_ Yousef has become a sort of father-figure for him, and he basically just admitted— “Ugh, _sorry,_ ” he says again, and stumbles away, mortified.

The one bright spot in the entire evening is his slow realization that Chris and Mags are actually speaking to each other again. They’re not back to their old selves yet, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly something. Isak mentions it to Magnus when Chris is out in the dining room, and Mags just shrugs. “We bonded over you and Even getting together, I guess,” he says, and gives Isak a wink. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Isak replies with a small smile, and checks the time on the kitchen clock yet again. Still three hours to go.

Overall it’s a very weird night, not helped by how quiet Yousef is as he’s doing Isak and Chris’s end-of-shift paperwork. Isak is definitely anxious now about how he feels about his being with Even, but he’s not going to say anything just yet. Yousef has been very much in his own head since Isak was hired, focused almost solely on the diner, so maybe he really hadn’t noticed the sparks between him and Even, and is simply surprised by the news. Maybe he just needs time to warm up to the idea.

Needless to say, he practically sprints up the stairs to Even’s apartment when he’s finally able to clock out just before midnight, and Even has the door already open for him, as though he could hear the pounding footsteps. Isak all but falls into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him as his lips meet Even’s in a searing kiss. 

Even is laughing softly against his mouth, mumbling about this being quite the ‘welcome home,’ but Isak just kisses him again and again, tugging at his clothes and crowding him against the wall, just _so_ grateful to be up here with him at last. They only have a few short hours before Even has to be back at work in the morning, so he’s going to make the most of them.

————

The next couple of weeks are indescribable bliss. They spend every possible moment together and somehow their work schedules coordinate to give them just the right amount of time apart so they don’t get sick of each other (not that Isak really thinks they _could,_ but it’s important to set boundaries, especially this early). Isak rarely goes home at all, much to Eskild’s dismay, and he would feel claustrophobic spending nearly all of his time in the same building if it weren’t for Even. 

All of their friends, including Even and Yousef’s old friends from school, drop by the diner at least once to congratulate them in person. It gets repetitive, but neither of them mind showing off. And after that initial awkward reveal, they’re not the least bit shy - it never quite gets to the point of full-on making out in front of people, but there’s definitely a lot of hand-holding, nose-nuzzling, general icky couple stuff that makes half their friends coo and the other half clear their throats loudly to get them to cut it out already.

Their regular customers start to figure it out, too, and they all think it’s just freaking adorable. On Friday night Isak’s tips end up being nearly double his usual total because Even keeps calling him “my beautiful boyfriend” over the PA when his orders are up. After the first couple of times, Isak throws balled-up napkins through the kitchen window at him and Even just cackles, winking at him and blowing kisses. But when he realizes how much money it’s making him, he just lets Even do it, actually bowing a little on his way to the kitchen when customers realize it’s him being called and are clapping for him.

Only Yousef seems nonchalant about it all - okay, he doesn’t _seem,_ he just is. Aside from Chris and Magnus having resorted to not speaking to each other again, it’s the only thing keeping Isak from being completely happy. But he can’t bring himself to talk to Even about it. If Even has noticed or is receiving the same lukewarm treatment from Yousef, he’s not saying anything either. 

Isak considers asking Sana, but he doesn’t want to risk causing a rift between them. Sana herself is very happy for him and Even, and tells them both so multiple times. It’s just Yousef who’s being strange about it. He isn’t cold to Isak or anything, he’s just _quiet,_ acting as if everything is exactly as it’s always been, and selfish though it might be, Isak’s feelings are a little hurt by it.

Finally, he just can’t keep it inside any longer. It’s a Thursday night, and he and Yousef are the only ones working the dining room, with Martin in the kitchen after Even leaves. Martin may not be the most talkative co-worker they have, but it’s nice to at least have him there as a buffer. Isak spends most of the night dreading being alone in the office with Yousef for the paperwork after closing, because the tension is mounting - whether it’s all in his head or not doesn’t matter. He’s got to clear the air.

The problem is, he’s never been great at subtlety, but he figures there’s no point in trying now. 

“Are you upset about me and Even?” he asks quietly, and Yousef’s fingers go still on the office computer’s keyboard. 

“Of course I’m not,” Yousef replies at once, and for a second Isak thinks it’s _too_ quick, like he’s just been rehearsing for this moment. But then he looks over at Isak, and the expression in his eyes is very kind. “Believe me, I’m not upset at all. I’ve just been sort of observing the two of you for now. Making sure everything’s going to be okay.”

Alarmed, Isak asks, “Do you think it might not be?”

“I didn’t say that,” Yousef says softly, and then he sighs. “He’s my oldest friend. I just want him to be happy. Obviously I want you to be happy too, but... well, you get what I mean?” Isak nods with a brief, understanding smile. “Yeah. And we’ve been through a lot together, way more than he’s probably had the chance to tell you. And then we took this huge risk of opening the diner, and we’ve been really lucky that it’s doing so well, but we’re in it _together_ and we have to watch out for each other.”

Isak just nods again. He gets all of this, and more that he’s pretty sure Yousef isn’t saying out loud. 

“So yeah, there’s all of that. But I told you that to tell you this - I’ve never seen him so completely gone for someone like he is for you. He looks at you like you put all the stars in the sky. It's _amazing_ seeing him this way. And not just that, he’s... he’s so at peace. I can tell that things are quiet for him now, and it’s almost certainly because of you. I think you’re really, really good for him, Isak.”

A breath Isak hadn’t been aware he was holding suddenly puffs out of his mouth and he finds himself almost blinking back tears. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he mumbles. “Being able to— to take care of him?”

“I can help you with that. Mags can, too.”

Nodding, Isak lets out another deep breath. “Good. I’ve wanted to ask, but—” He shrugs, smirking just a little. “Needed to make sure you weren’t pissed first.”

“No, I’m sorry. I spoke to Even privately about it, congratulated him and gave him a hug and everything. And he’s just been mooning over you ever since then so I doubt he’s even noticed the way I’ve been acting. On the inside I’m thrilled, trust me! I just... you know, I was reserving judgment for a while.”

“Me asking you about it didn’t mess that up, did it?”

Yousef grins at him. “Nah, I was already there. I’d been planning to just chime in sometime when somebody else was talking about how disgustingly cute the two of you are, and have that be my little ‘yeah, okay, I’m cool with this, just so you know’. But I think it’s better this way.”

“Me too,” Isak smiles and, feeling only a little bit silly, holds out his hand for Yousef to shake. 

Yousef, however, just laughs and shakes his head before pulling him into a hug that nearly knocks the breath right out of him. He really should have seen it coming, though. 

“And just so you know?” Yousef says, right against his ear. “If you ever hurt him you are absolutely fired. No trial, no nothing. You're out on your ass.”

“Got it.”

They break apart then, both chuckling, and Yousef claps a hand on his shoulder for good measure. “Are you going upstairs after we're done here?” Isak nods, blushing a little. “Tell him we talked, okay? I’m sure he'll want to know.”

————

“I’m worried about Mags and Chris.”

They’re in bed, lights off, almost asleep - or at least _Isak_ had been. Even sounds wide-awake though, and it takes Isak a few seconds to fully understand what’s happening. “Worried?” he asks through a yawn.

“They’ve been snapping at each other for the last couple of days, yeah. Haven’t you noticed?”

Isak freezes, blinking hard as his tired brain tries to form the best response, but he takes too long. “I know they slept together,” Even says after a moment, and Isak’s head jerks up, trying to focus on what he can see of Even’s face in the darkness of the bedroom. “Yeah, Mags told me.”

“What exactly did he say?” Isak asks, because he needs to find out where Even is in this particular narrative. And honestly, _stupidly,_ he’s a little annoyed that he’s not the only one of the staff who knows the secret anymore.

“That they had really great drunk sex one night a while back, and that she got really weird about it afterward and wouldn’t talk to him. I didn’t even notice, to be honest.” Even laughs softly, tipping his forehead down against Isak’s and dropping his voice to a stage whisper to add, “I had other things on my mind back then.”

Isak grins, holding him close. “If he hadn’t told me right after it happened I probably wouldn’t have noticed either.”

“Yeah, so that went on for a while, and then you and I got together and things sort of mellowed out between them for a day or two, and then she went right back to ignoring him. Then last week he finally got tired of it and found the balls to confront her about it.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Yeah! In the walk-in. You didn’t know this part, huh?” Isak shakes his head furiously, knowing Even can feel it even if he can’t see it in the dark. “And she got really pissed at him and he was like ‘fine, whatever,’ and just started ignoring _her,_ and then a couple days later she apologized, and they sort of made up and went out for a drink after work, and then they ended up having sex again that night.”

“Oh no,” Isak moans. “Oh _no._ ”

“Mhm. So now they’re right back where they started.”

“See, this is why I waited so long to kiss you. This bullshit right here.”

“Straight people are weird,” Even murmurs, and Isak hums in response as Even kisses his cheek, then finds his lips. “It’s more than that, but I think that’s the gist of it.”

“Promise me right now that things will never get that dumb between you and me,” Isak says softly.

“Of course they won’t. I mean, yeah they’re straight, which is a whole other mindset, but they also don’t... you know, have feelings for each other like we do.”

Maybe Isak’s imagining it, but he thinks, he _thinks_ Even might have been about to say ‘love’. Not just ‘have feelings’. ‘Love’. He lets out a slightly shaking breath, because he’s much too sleepy to even begin to process such a thought, and just settles his head back down on Even’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to them. One of them. Or maybe both, I don’t know.”

“Yeah please do, because yesterday I think Chris was about to throw a fork at him.”

“Wouldn’t put it past her, honestly.”

Isak is true to his word; the very next day, a quiet Monday when it’s Mags in the kitchen and himself and Chris in the dining room for the dinner shift, he refuses to just be that buffer between them. When Magnus arrives, Isak is in the kitchen with Even - Even has slowly been teaching him to cook, just small things. Isak really does do his best to pay attention and learn, but the whole exercise is more or less another way for them to be close to each other. 

Isak is standing in front of the grill, Even directly behind him, reaching around either side of Isak’s body to direct his hands. Isak is sure they look annoyingly cute, which explains why Mags grimaces slightly after he gives them a brief smile of greeting. He’s not going to say anything just yet though, choosing to focus on Even explaining how to tell when a steak is at its selected level of doneness.

“It’s the feel, okay? The firmness. You can’t go by how it looks on the outside, you have to touch it.”

Isak tries not to snort, but he and Mags catch each other’s eye and they can both tell they’re thinking the exact same thing. “Touch it, hmm, okay,” Isak says, laughter brimming around the corners of his words. 

“Are you being a child?” Even asks, laying a hand on Isak’s shoulder and putting their faces very close together. “Are you really? This is a very important skill to learn. I’ll make you sleep on the sofa tonight if you don’t behave.”

Isak just stares into his eyes, smirking, and brushes their noses together. “You would never.”

Just then Chris slaps a new order ticket into the window. “Are you on the clock yet, Isak?” she asks sharply. He turns to look over his shoulder at her, surprised by her tone, and Even appears to be as well. “Some of us are actually trying to work, I’m just saying.”

Even’s eyes dart quickly over to Magnus, who’s tying his apron on in silence and completely ignoring what had just happened, and then asks, “Chris, was somebody rude to you? You were fine a few minutes ago.”

“I have like five minutes, but I’ll clock in now,” Isak says, before she can answer. “And I _was_ working, thanks.” 

“Looks to me like you’re getting dry-humped against the grill, but whatever.”

Isak, Even, and Magnus all start to fuss at her at once, but she just walks away, waving a dismissive hand at the three of them. “I’ll take care of it,” Isak says, and when Even opens his mouth again, Isak shakes his head and kisses his cheek. “Trust me.”

He gets himself a glass of water at the server’s station, and when he sees Chris heading his way, he quickly fixes a Coke for her, holding the glass out like an olive branch. She takes it without a word, but Isak sees it as a good sign anyway. “You’re still pissed at Mags, huh?” he says quietly. It’s not really a question, and both of them know it.

“No, I’m pissed at myself,” she sighs, not looking at him as she takes a sip and then holds the glass to her chest, staring blankly through the dining room. “We fucked again the other day. Another mistake.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because we got drunk again. I need to make it a rule to not drink around that guy. He gets even sweeter and better-looking and I can’t resist him or whatever.” Chris takes another gulp of her Coke, this one almost angry. “If you hadn’t gotten together with Even and taken away our nights of hanging out up at his place, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Isak chooses not to point out that the first time she and Mags had gotten together had been after an evening at Even’s, and simply asks, “No, I meant why was it a mistake?”

She just stares at him, her mouth slightly open. “Just because you and Even are perfect for each other doesn’t mean everyone who works together should hook up.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Thanks for actually answering. I’m just trying to help.”

“I just— I like him. Okay? I _like_ him.” Chris looks miserable, small and lost with her glass of Coke held protectively to her chest like some sort of shield. “And I’ve been too much of a bitch to him for it to ever work now. So I just keep being mean to him, hoping he’ll just go off on me one day and it’ll make me stop liking him.”

God, Even had been so right. Heterosexuals really do have an entirely different way of viewing the world. Isak has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he replies, “Maybe you should just try being nice. See what happens.”

“Then I’ll look weak. Like a silly _girl._ ”

Over Chris’s shoulder, Isak sees three people settling into one of his assigned booths and reaches under the counter for menus. “Hate to break it to you baby, but... you _are_ a silly girl.” He gives her a swift kiss on the cheek as he steps past her and puts on his bright ‘hello-I’m-Isak-and-I’ll-be-taking-care-of-you-today’ smile for his new table.

————

_**Tirsdag 10:27** _

_**From Eskild:** Isak if you don’t come home soon I’m putting your room up for rent._

_**To Eskild:** I’m still paying rent! Why do you care if I’m not there?_

_**From Eskild:** Because I MISS you, asshole._

_**To Eskild:** You come to Throwback twice a week, you see me plenty. _

_**To Eskild:** Staying at Even’s is just convenient._

_**From Eskild:** :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :(_

_**To Eskild:** I’ll be there tomorrow night okay? I work the lunch shift and we can all have dinner together. _

_**From Eskild:** Bring Even?_

_**To Eskild:** That’s actually a really good idea, I’ll ask him  <3_

_**From Linn:** Just don’t have sex too loud after please._

_**From Eskild:** Linn likes that you haven’t been around, Isak. She only has to deal with one couple having loud sex instead of two._

_**From Linn:** It’s true. Move in with Even if you want to._

_**From Eskild:** Don’t give him any ideas._

————

There’s a weird energy in the air when Isak arrives for the Friday dinner shift - Viktor, Malin, and Yousef are all hovering around the cash register speaking in low voices, and as Isak approaches them, Even and Mags both join them from the kitchen, a rare occurrence indeed.

“What’s wrong?” Isak asks at once, and five heads swivel toward him. Even is the only one who smiles at him, and it’s very quick.

“Yousef got a call earlier,” Viktor says slowly. “From _Natt og Dag._ There’s going to be a review in tomorrow’s issue.” 

“Of us?”

Malin nods. “We don’t know when they were here or what they ate or who served them or anything. So we have no idea what to expect.”

Isak glances from her to Yousef to Even; all three of them look worried. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he says, stepping close to Even and sliding an arm around his waist. “Nobody takes that paper seriously anyway,” he adds in a whisper before kissing Even’s cheek. “So it probably won’t affect business either way.”

Even sighs softly and gives him a tender smile. “I needed to hear that, thank you,” he says quietly, and pulls him in for a hug. Then he presses a kiss to Isak’s forehead and leans back enough to look at him again, his eyes already back to their usual sparkle. “Ready to go to work?”

“Oh, always. Come on, you know me.” 

The group starts to scatter and Mags touches Isak’s arm as they both head for the kitchen. “What did you say to Chris?” he asks in a low voice.

Isak almost stops walking, swallowing hard. “Why?”

“Because she’s... everything is awesome now,” Magnus says, and Isak is amused by the sudden dreamy quality of his tone. “She just apologized again and was like ‘let’s start over, can we start over?’ and I just fucking melted. I couldn’t say no.”

Isak clocks in, grinning, and turns back to Mags to clap him on the shoulder. “I knew you two would work things out.”

“Seriously, what did you say to her? I know it was you. The other day after she was bitchy to us in the kitchen, you said you’d take care of it.”

“I just suggested that she be nice,” Isak replies, biting his lip to keep from snorting with laughter. He’s not going to rat Chris out if she hasn’t told Mags how she feels yet. “So... any more details?”

Magnus glances around, then puffs out his chest and gives Isak a smirk. “I made her come four times last night. And twice this morning.”

It’s on the tip of Isak’s tongue to say _big deal, Even does that for me pretty much every day_ but he manages to hold back and just rubs Mags’s shoulder again. “Good job. Keep it up.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking she wants a friends with benefits thing? Which, I don’t know, I mean that’s cool for now. Kind of hoping it turns into something more, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. It’s probably kind of fucked up, but all that time she was being rude to me just made me want her more. Is that weird?”

Before Isak can answer, Yousef leans into the kitchen to tell him he has two tables already waiting, so he gives Mags an apologetic smile and promises that they’ll continue this conversation later. As he’s hurrying to his tables, though, he can’t help shaking his head at how _simple_ everything would be if Chris and Mags were just honest with each other. 

It’s a hectic shift, and a good thing too, because it makes everyone forget about this review that’s looming. When they get back upstairs after closing, Isak does his best to keep Even distracted and _very_ happy, and when Even falls asleep before he does, he knows he’s succeeded. But the next morning, Isak wakes up earlier than he’d really like, and when he stretches his arm across the bed only to find it empty on Even’s side, he knows Even being gone is exactly what woke him. The apartment is silent and still, so Even’s out somewhere. A flash of worry courses through him, and he’s about to reach for his phone to text him when he hears the back door open, the sound of Even’s footsteps. 

“Baby?” he calls, sitting up in bed. “Are you okay?”

A moment later Even appears in the bedroom doorway, his cheeks flushed with cold and a delighted smile on his face. “The review is really, really good,” he says, clearly still out of breath, and now Isak can see the copy of _Natt og Dag_ in his hand. 

“You got up early to go out and get it?” Isak asks, rubbing his eyes, and he lets out a little yelp of surprise when Even bounces onto the bed beside him. “Ugh, of course you did. Give it here.”

Even thrusts the paper at him, already folded open to the right page, and then busies himself with his phone while Isak starts to read. It is indeed very positive - under the painfully hipster language and obvious attempt to not find Throwback utterly charming, anyway. The reviewer doesn’t name names, but Isak can tell by their description that Chris had been their server, and she’d clearly been very much on her game that day. “Wow, ‘a symphony of flavors,’ Isak reads aloud, and Even just nods, grinning while staring down at his phone; Isak can see that he’s texting. “Well done, baby,” he adds, eyebrows raised as he continues to read. 

“Okay wait, they get all snotty about us not serving alcohol. We should— oh okay, they clarify that it’s because we’re halal. Still. That’s kind of fucked up.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love it when you use words like ‘we’ and ‘us’ when you’re talking about work?” Even asks, and Isak looks up at him. Even’s still engrossed in his phone, but his tone had been so fond and not the least bit distracted. 

“Well, it _is_ we and us,” Isak replies. “The family thing. You know that.”

Even sets down his phone and lifts his head at last, smiling warmly at him now. “I know, but still. I love it. Makes me feel all cozy inside.” He leans in for a soft kiss, then another, and Isak is about to decide to finish reading the review later and pull Even closer when his phone pings with a text reply. “That’ll be Yousef,” he says excitedly, and snatches his phone back up. “Ha! I knew he’d be first. I texted practically everybody we know.”

The mood downstairs today is a 180-degree difference than yesterday’s because of the review. The staff spends most of the day quoting different lines of it loudly to each other and bragging about it to their customers, and Yousef can’t stop telling every single person he encounters that he’s going to frame the fucking thing.

None of them are ever really sure if it’s a direct result of the review in _Natt og Dag_ or just a coincidence, but a second review appears the following week in _Aftenposten,_ this one even more glowing. A framed copy of it goes right up on the wall beside the first one, behind the cash register where every single customer will see it. 

The great reviews bring in tons more business; their numbers are higher than they’ve ever been and they’re all back to being completely exhausted for a little while. But since they’re doing so well, Yousef and Even can finally hire more people - one more server, so Yousef doesn’t have to wait tables anymore and can spend all of his time being that charming maître d' Isak had envisioned when he was first hired, and two more guys for the kitchen, so _Even_ can have a bit of a rest. 

They even decide that they can afford to close the diner one night for a private party. All of their friends and family are invited, just as they had been for the soft opening all those months ago. This time, though, it’s purely a celebration. 

And this time, Even hardly leaves Isak’s side. The party had coincided with (or maybe been planned around, Isak is never sure) some of Even’s friends from the States being in Europe for a vacation and they’re invited as well - Even can’t stop showing Isak off to them, to his parents, to every single person in the room. By the end of the evening, Isak’s fingers are practically numb from hours of holding Even’s hand, and his cheeks are sore from how much he’s been smiling. But it’s still a perfect night. 

He’s ridiculously in love, and everything - _everything_ \- is just as it should be.

————

“I’m serious, Isak, I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m going insane.”

Isak looks at Magnus sharply, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t use that word.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. I just... I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I’m falling so hard for her, dude.”

“Then. Tell. Her.”

“I’m _scared,_ though!”

Isak exhales deeply, glancing at Jonas and Mahdi, who are very deliberately _not_ looking at him and are concentrating on their food. Jonas mumbles that his steak is cooked perfectly, and offers Mahdi a bite if he wants; the two of them are having their own little conversation in their own little world, and Isak does not appreciate being ignored like this.

Mags had clocked out twenty minutes ago and had been all set to leave, but then he’d seen Jonas and Mahdi in their booth with Isak taking their order, and had come over to say hello. He’s been sitting here ever since, still wearing his coat, and the four of them just hanging out had somehow become... this. Because lately, it always does.

“Steak’s good, huh? Is that what you said?” Isak snaps.

Jonas peeks up at him, chewing very slowly, and nods, clearly nervous that he’s pissed Isak off. 

“I cooked it. You’re fucking welcome. Now can I get some help here?”

“Shit, Isak, you made it?” Mahdi asks, looking from him to Jonas, eyebrows raised, then focuses on his own plate. “Did you make mine, too?”

“No, because chicken and waffles is a thousand times harder to cook than a perfect medium rare steak. Obviously I didn’t,” Isak replies, and lets out another exasperated sigh as he stands up to make sure none of his other tables need anything. Then he sits back down beside Jonas and looks at Mags again, giving him a hard smile. “Magnus,” he says, feigning sweetness. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you the same thing. You’re crazy about Chris, you have been for weeks. You want the two of you to be the real deal instead of just fuck buddies. Am I right so far?”

Mags nods, looking absolutely wretched, which just annoys Isak even more. He loves Magnus to death, but _fuck._

“You’re gonna have to tell her, man,” Jonas pipes up at last, around another mouthful of steak. “It’s not just going to happen. You need to make it happen. Take the leap.”

“ _Thank_ you, holy shit,” Isak mumbles, and gets up to refill a couple of drinks at another table. He’s only gone for a minute, but when he gets back, Jonas and Mahdi are actually speaking over each other in their efforts to give Magnus advice.

“Surprise her with flowers—”

“Take her out to look at the stars—”

“Oh, or do that thing where she’s lying on her stomach and you’re drawing those invisible pictures on her back with your finger, and spell out ‘be my girlfriend’ or something.”

Jonas stops in the middle of a sentence to stare at Mahdi in disbelief for that one, and Isak presses his lips together to hold in a groan. Mags, however, is leaning closer to Mahdi and asking for more details. Isak just throws up his hands and retreats to the kitchen to check on his two pending orders.

“Hey babe. How’s it going over there?” Even extends an arm toward him, and takes care to avoid touching Isak’s shirt with the end of the greasy spatula he’s holding when he hugs him. 

“The guys are finally getting through to him. I should have brought them in on this weeks ago.” He kisses Even’s cheek before taking the spatula from him and prodding the three burgers on the grill with it. “These are ready, I think. They’re for me.”

“Yes they are, good job.” Isak kisses him again, then moves to the other side of the window while Even plates the burgers for him. “Seriously though, you think it’ll be okay?” Even asks after a moment, his eyes focused downward. Isak can’t see his hands, but he knows Even is taking these few extra seconds to arrange every last component perfectly. “I mean, do you think he’ll finally have the guts to make it official?” 

Isak snorts. “I swear, I’m this close to telling Chris myself. I’ve had enough of the two of them.”

“Now darling, you know that not every relationship is as written in the stars as ours is. Other people need a little help sometimes.” Even winks at him as he slides the final plate for Isak’s order into the window. “Poor unlucky bastards.”

“Seriously.” Isak returns the wink as he collects his plates, and delivers them as quickly as he can so he can get back to his boys and find out if this thing has been put to bed yet or not. He’s startled to see Magnus missing from the table and asks where he is, a slow smile spreading over his face when he sees Jonas and Mahdi’s gleeful expressions.

“He went to call her,” Mahdi replies, holding up his hand for Isak to high-five. “I don’t know what he’s going to say, but I’m pretty sure it’ll include something about wanting to give her a back massage tonight.”

“Thank fuck that’s over,” Isak says, slumping back down next to Jonas and stealing one of the few remaining fries on his plate. “They’ve been running around like this for what, a month and a half now? Wait, almost two. Yeah, because it started after Even and I had been together for just over a month.”

“Speaking of which,” Jonas says slyly, slapping the back of Isak’s hand when he goes for another fry. “Is everything ready for tonight?”

Isak smiles, ducking his head as he nods. “Mhm.”

“Three fucking months. I can’t believe you guys are celebrating a _three-month_ anniversary. I mean, how sappy can you get?”

“Mahdi, fuck off, you just told Mags to write an invisible and probably totally indecipherable message on Chris’s _back._ If I want to give my boyfriend a couple of presents for a stupid anniversary, I’m going to.”

“Shit, you and Even should go have sex in the walk-in or something. You’re pissy.” Jonas nudges his shoulder. “I want another Coke. Move so I can go get it.”

“I’ll get it.” Isak snatches the glass from Jonas, fills it, and sets it back down a little too hard. “Sorry. And sorry for snapping before, I’m just nervous.”

Mahdi smiles at him. “Why, though? It’s cute. And it’s not like you’re asking him to marry you or anything.”

“And before you even say it,” Jonas says, cutting Isak off before he’s even had the chance to open his mouth (goddamn, he knows him too well). “He’s not going to say no.”

“Definitely not,” Mahdi adds.

Isak just looks at the two of them, feeling incredibly grateful for their support and trying to figure out how to tell them so, when Mags suddenly appears again, his face bright red. 

“I’m going over there,” he announces, and laughs breathlessly. “She practically started having phone sex with me, holy shit, this _boner._ Fuck, okay, yeah, I’m leaving. Great to see you guys. Wish me luck.” And he takes off again, waving goodbye to Malin as he passes her on his way to the door. 

“Fuckin’ Mags, man,” Isak mumbles, pure affection in his voice, and Jonas and Mahdi murmur their complete agreement.

————

Even is leaning out the front door, laughing at something Malin or Martin has said, while Isak waits impatiently by the counter for him to just say good night already and lock up. Having a boyfriend who’s this goddamn friendly with every single person he encounters is the absolute _worst_ when Isak wants to get something done.

At last, he hears the door bang shut and the jingle of Even’s keys, and sighs with relief. He takes a couple of slow steps closer to him, stopping by the jukebox; its aqua bubble lights are just about the only illumination in the whole dining room. 

“Ready for bed, love?” Even asks, checking that the door is securely locked one more time before turning toward Isak with a smile.

“Not quite yet. Come over here and sit.” Isak points to the first stool at the counter, his hand trembling very slightly, not enough for Even to see when the light is this dim.

Even just stares at him for a long moment, his smile widening, and he pauses on his way to the counter to brush a gentle kiss over Isak’s mouth. Isak takes a deep breath and slides behind the counter, laying both arms on it and taking both of Even’s hands into his own. “So. I have something for you. For our three-month—”

“Ah-ah, wait, that’s tomorrow,” Even interrupts, grinning, and Isak wants to _shake_ him. 

“It is tomorrow, Even,” he replies, the tiniest bit of irritation creeping into his voice. “Look at the clock. Four minutes after midnight.”

“Well that’s— I was going to give your present to you _tonight._ ”

“You can still do that! Just... I want to do this now. I need to. I’ve been anxious about it all fucking day.”

Even looks mildly alarmed, and pulls Isak’s hands closer to him so he can press kisses to his knuckles. “Okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to be anxious, though, I mean I’m sure I’ll love whatever it is.”

“Sorry,” Isak murmurs. He clears his throat and reluctantly pulls his hands out of Even’s grip so he can duck behind the counter where his backpack is - where the first gift is. “Close your eyes,” he calls up to Even, who chuckles quietly, and after Isak peeks up to make sure his eyes are shut, he pulls the wrapped box out of his bag and sets it on the counter in front of Even with a flourish. “Okay.”

Even’s adorable little gasp when he opens his eyes is completely real, Isak is sure of it. “You wrapped it and everything. Look at this fucking ribbon. You’re wonderful.”

“Just open it already.”

And of course Even takes his sweet time, peeling every piece of tape off very carefully as though the wrapping paper is spun from pure gold or something and ripping it would be some sort of sin. When he’s finally down to just the box, he looks up at Isak again with another giddy little laugh, holding his breath as he removes the lid. And then he just freezes, his eyes huge as he stares down at the contents.

“Yousef was my co-conspirator,” Isak tells him softly. “I had him send me the scans, and I got them professionally printed and framed.”

“You _didn’t._ ”

“I did. Because I love you.”

It's not the first time he's said it, far from it, but the way Even is looking at him right now, it might as well be. “I love you, too.”

Even’s breathing is shaky as he lifts the first frame out of the box, and he lets out another quiet gasp when he sees the one underneath it. “Isak!”

They’re the two drawings Even had done of the diner, nearly a year ago now, the ones Isak had been so impressed by during his interview. The first one is little more than a blueprint, but the second is in full color, gorgeously rendered and intricate. Isak has never told him, but as beautiful as his drawing is, he thinks the finished result of the real-life diner is ten times better, because they’d all created it _together._

“I thought,” Isak says, reaching for Even’s hand again and gently pulling him up standing. “That we could hang them over here? Behind the register?” He smiles at Even, nodding just once. “So every single person who comes through here can see them.”

Even is blinking back tears now; Isak can see it clearly in spite of the low lighting. “Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Lucky for you, I’d hoped you would say that and have come prepared.” Isak leads him to the cash register and produces a hammer and two small nails from the shelf beneath it, and then turns to what the staff lovingly refers to as their ‘Ego Wall’. All five of the framed restaurant reviews are hung there, along with several choice picks from the diner’s Instagram (almost all of them selected by Chris, of course). There’s plenty of room left, though.

It only takes a couple of minutes, and then both of Even’s drawings are hung. “My only regret is that I couldn’t get you to sign them first,” Isak whispers into Even’s ear before leaning his cheek on Even’s shoulder, the two of them just standing there for a long moment to admire their handiwork. 

“You’re the sweetest boyfriend on the whole planet, do you know that?” Even asks, turning to face him and sliding both arms around his waist. “No, fuck that. The sweetest _person._ ”

“Oh wow, I’m glad you said that now, because you might want to take it back when I give you your other present.”

“Wait, there’s _more?_ ”

“Yeah... I kind of had Yousef’s help on this one, too.” Isak gives him a nervous smile, then just blurts it out. “I want to take a vacation. A long one. Like a month. With you. To the States. Where all of this started.” He waves a hand around wildly to indicate the diner itself, then immediately starts chewing at his lip and staring at Even, holding his breath as he waits for some sort of response.

“Why... the _fuck..._ ” Even begins, and Isak can’t help but wince, preparing himself for the onslaught of outrage, but then Even starts to laugh and cups Isak’s face between his hands. “...Would you think I wouldn’t completely _love_ that idea?! Huh? Honestly!”

Stunned, Isak can barely react to Even kissing his mouth five or six times in quick succession, nor to his continued joyous laughter. “I didn’t know if you’d want to take that much time off work!” he finally replies, and even as the words are coming out of his mouth he realizes how incredibly _stupid_ they are. 

“God, you’re precious. I love you so much.” Even kisses him again, this time complete with a little smacking sound, and then he asks, “How did Yousef help? Fuck, he’s not going to lend you money, is he?”

“No no, I have enough saved for both of us. I think. Anyway, no, he just, you know, gave his permission for _me_ to take that much time off.”

“Well, I am going to have to give him the biggest kiss tomorrow, then.”

Isak allows himself to smile at last, his voice actually squeaking a little as he says, “You really want to go?”

“Of course I do! A month-long vacation with you? I wouldn’t care where we went, but if you really want to haul your thoroughly Norwegian butt across the Atlantic and brave those damn Yankees, I’ll be right there next to you because I am _not_ missing this.”

“Fuck, this is going to be quite the adventure, isn’t it?” Isak says softly, beaming at Even and then kissing him with every drop of love he can possibly muster. It lingers, it lasts, it nearly steals his very breath. Just like Even himself does every single day. “Okay, _now_ I’m ready for bed.”

“Oh, no.” Even clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Not so fast. You’re getting your present now, too.” And he takes Isak’s hand very gently, lifting it high above their heads like some kind of royalty leading him onto a ballroom floor for the first time, guiding him toward the jukebox.

Isak waits, patiently this time, as Even leans an arm on the jukebox’s plastic housing and flips slowly through the pages. “Do you remember the day this came, and I told you that all my favorite oldies are slow songs?” he asks, looking back at Isak with a soft smile.

“Mhm,” Isak replies, his heart beginning to pound. 

“I realized the other day that we’ve never once had our very own slow dance to this thing.” Even presses buttons, the clicks quite loud in the otherwise quiet room. “So we’re doing it now.”

When the song starts, it’s impossible to mistake. 

_Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a long, lonely time..._

“Even, God,” Isak mumbles, covering his face with his hands to hide his incredulous laughter, not protesting at all when Even carefully pulls one of them away and folds his own hand around it, drawing him close. “You’re so _cheesy,_ I hate you.”

“You fucking love me and you know it,” Even whispers, draping Isak’s arms around his neck before sliding his own arms around Isak’s waist, and beginning to lead him in a gentle sway.

Cheesy or not, Isak is in heaven, because this song is _beautiful,_ one of his favorites on the whole juke. He sighs happily, tilting his forehead against Even’s. “I do love you. And I love this song.”

“Me too.” Even kisses him softly, brushing his nose back and forth against Isak’s a couple of times, then leans back with a small smile. “Even though it’s been sort of tainted by that dumb Patrick Swayze movie. With the pottery wheel and their hands in the wet clay. _Gross._ ”

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” Isak deadpans, tugging at a lock of Even’s hair. “Now that’s all I’m picturing. Talk about cheesy.”

Even just laughs, and reaches up to trail a fingertip down Isak’s cheek. “Okay, I’ll try to make up for it: this isn’t your present, not really.”

“Oh?”

“No,” Even murmurs, now tracing Isak’s lower lip. “It’s not as good as yours, but it’s important to me. How would you feel about moving in with me, officially?”

Isak can only stare at him, speechless, and Even rushes to fill his silence. “I mean, you practically do anyway, but if you wanted to make it really real... call this place home for good?”

“Of course I want to,” Isak whispers, not realizing that he’s all but stopped dancing now. “Of _course_ I do. There’s nothing I want more, holy fuck, Even.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“Oh God, we might actually kill each other, though,” Isak blurts out, dropping his forehead to Even’s shoulder. “But wait, does this mean I get to know the alarm codes now, finally? Can I have keys to the front door?” he asks, flinging his arm toward said door behind him and looking up at Even with a dazed grin. “Can I be part-owner, too?”

“One thing at a time, shit!” Even laughs, and hugs him close, forgetting all about dancing for just a moment. “You can have keys, you can have the codes. Yousef is going to fight you on that last one, though.”

“Worth a shot.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that? Fuck.” And just as the cymbals crash and the piano crescendos, leading into the song’s emotional climax, he suddenly leans forward and fucking _dips_ Isak, making him yell in surprise and clutch tightly at the back of Even’s neck so he won’t lose his balance. But of course Even is there to catch him, holding him steady and sure, as he always does, as Isak is wholly sure he always will.

Then Even pulls him back upright, their lips meeting in a messy kiss broken by more laughter, before he grabs Isak’s hand to spin him, once, twice, and Isak crashes back into him, throwing his head back on his neck as he just keeps _laughing,_ because what else can he do? He’s an idiot, they both are, and they’re wildly, _chaotically_ in love, so they’re going to dance and twirl and revel in it, all through the dining room and all night if they want to. Because this place is their home, their own beautiful home that they’ve made together. They might live in a dozen other places before the end, but this one... this one is special. It’s everything Isak has ever wanted, and Even is there to share it with him. Even has _given_ it to him.

And then the song is over, and they’re clinging to each other, breathless and still giggling in the deep, velvety silence, and after a moment Even whispers, “Bed now?”

“Bed. Yes.”

“ _Godspeed your love tooooo meeeeeee..._ ” Even trills, leading him by the hand toward the kitchen, toward the stairs, toward home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand finally the payoff for the title of the fic! Yes, that final scene was planned from the very beginning :) Hope it was worth the wait. (Just in case you don't recognize it, the song is [Unchained Melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiiyq2xrSI0).)
> 
> And that’s that! Once again, this fic was a TON of fun to write, so I sincerely hope it was as much fun for you to read it. As always, thank you from the bottom of my heart for kudoing and commenting and all that jazz <333 I love you all dearly!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dahlstrom.tumblr.com)!


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